I 




pC. - . ' .1: 



THE 



BOOK OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



THE 



BOOK OF ILLUSTRATIONS ; 



OR, 



SCRIPTURE TRUTHS EXHIBITED 



BY THE AID OF SIMILES 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED. 



fiY 

THE REV. H. G. SALTER, A.M 



CURATE AND LECTURER OF GLASTONBURY. 



AND WITHOUT A PARABLE SPAKE HE NOT UNTO THEM. MATT. xiii. ?>4. 




P LONDON: 
J. HATCHARD AND SON, 187, PICCADILLY, 



MDCCCXL. 



LONDON : 

PRINTED BY IBOTSON AND PALMER, SAVOY- STREET, STRAND. 



THE VENERABLE 

HENRY LAW, A.M. 

ARCHDEACON OF WELLS, &c. 

THIS VOLUME 

S, BY PERMISSION, DEDICATED, 

WITH SINCERE RESPECT AND ESTEEM, 
BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



While preparing this volume, I was apprised of the exist- 
ence of an old work on the subject. * With great difficulty 
a copy was at length procured ; and unwilling that this 
attempt in a new department of Theology should be aban- 
doned, I determined to make it the basis of the work which 
I had designed. 

That a subject so useful and interesting as that of Illus- 
tration by Similes should not have been cultivated, may 
excite surprise. It appears indeed to be altogether new 
ground which has not been broken up, while it presents an 
ample field in which to expatiate. Two reasons may be 
assigned, which may partly explain why it has been neg- 
lected. The first is the difficulty of supplying a sufficient 
number for publication. But I apprehend a more probable 
one may be found in the nature of the subject. The author 
must feel that he is entering on an untrodden path. And this 
requires no small degree of moral courage. It is safer to fol- 
low others. The fact that the public are not in posses- 

* KAINA KAI ITAAAIA. Things New and Old, or a Storehouse of Similes, 
Sentences, Allegories, Apothegms, Adages, Divine, Moral, Political, &c, with 
their several applications : collected, and observed, from the writings and sayings 
of the learned in all ages to the present. By John Spencer, a lover of learn- 
ing and learned men. London, 1658. 



viii 



PREFACE. 



sion of some work of this nature, would discourage most 
men ; and the inquiry why it was so would present an obsta- 
cle at the beginning. But the request of some eminent in 
judgment to publish on the subject, which originated the 
idea, strengthened by the unanimous approval of those 
whom I consulted, overcame my hesitation. Indeed the 
desire to possess a full collection of Illustrations I found was 
very general with the clergy to whom it was mentioned. 

But another, and a greater discouragement will be found in 
the subject matter. Its materials cannot be subjected to the just 
decisions of Reason, but the capricious judge to be appealed 
to is Taste. Whether any particular illustration should be 
admitted or rejected, can hardly be decided by reason. 
There are no fixed principles to try it by ; it will be liked or 
disliked often without any assignable grounds. As our 
tastes and fancies vary, so will be our approval or otherwise. 
So various is the character of men's minds, that it would be 
impossible to obtain an uniform judgment. Some illustra- 
tions of singular point and beauty might secure universal 
approval. But this excellence cannot be expected to belong 
to illustrations in general, any more than to other subjects. 
Here, then, we must surrender at discretion to the taste of 
our judge. In general the standard of Taste has been 
tolerably adjusted. Here it is otherwise. 

That it is a subject deserving of cultivation will, I think, 
appear, if we consider its usefulness with reference to the 
aid which it affords the public teacher. 

1. Illustrations amuse, and interest, and relieve the style 
of preaching. Diilness and unprofitableness may well be 
joined together. It is in vain to hope for much good where 
no interest is excited. And when the difficulties attending 
this are considered, it surely cannot be a question whether 
every legitimate means should not be adopted for this end. 
The manner in which the great subjects of our religion may 
be enforced, can never be a matter of indifference. And it 
may be safely affirmed generally—that the most successful 



PREFACE. 



IX 



preachers have been, for the most part, the most popular. 
Which is evidently agreeable to the reason of things, and 
the constitution of man. The powers which profit must first 
interest and engage. But to excite and maintain a due 
interest in our message is, under the present system, an 
attainment of no small difficulty, and is found so even by 
those who are conscious of the highest qualifications. Surely 
it should be a matter of regret to a tender conscience that 
there should be one hearer who was uninterested and indiffe- 
rent when such momentous results are at stake. And with 
what a pressure should it hear upon our hearts that many 
such, it is feared, may be found in every assembly ! Why 
indifference should so prevail, is partly explained by the 
existing circumstances under which the Gospel is preached. 
The interest which attaches to other lectures is mainly 
derived from the novelty, and the great diversity of topics 
which they embrace. They are not the subjects of every 
day. But this advantage must be candidly admitted to be 
wanting to the preacher. Notwithstanding the beautiful 
diversity of metaphor and imagery, by which the subject may 
be enforced by a skilful expounder, yet after all it reduces 
itself to two heads, " repentance towards God, and faith in 
our Lord Jesus Christ." Thus, while it is true that the 
Gospel is as much a remembrancer as a teacher of new ideas, 
and will be valued as such by the truly spiritual, yet it is 
requiring too much from the general hearers to expect that 
they will be impressed by an oft-repeated message which is 
destitute of some interest. Moreover, as religious knowledge 
is happily more extensively diffused, this difficulty will be 
increased ; and as the attainments of the people increase, so 
the preacher must continue to rise above the level of his 
hearers. In a word, dull preaching is the bane of success. 
In this view illustrations are of importance. The effect is 
that which Wharton has remarked respecting the moral 
passages in Dyer's poetry — that " the unexpected insertion 
of such reflections imparts to us the same pleasure which 



X 



PREFACE. 



we feel, when, in wandering through a wilderness, or grove, 
we suddenly behold in the turning of the walk a statue of 
some virtue or muse." 

2. They arrest attention. Whoever has used them must 
have seen this effect produced generally on the hearers. 

3. They will often elucidate, and fix a truth upon the 
mind which would never have been understood ; or, if under- 
stood, would not have been impressed by an ordinary state- 
ment. They will therefore be remembered long after every 
other part of the discourse has been forgotten, and will assist 
in recalling the topic with which it is connected. 

4. But their benefit in lecturing and catechising young 
persons can scarcely be sufficiently appreciated. The diffi- 
culty of fixing the attention and retaining it afterwards, is 
felt by all who engage in these interesting exercises, and 
there are greater failures here than in adult teaching. It 
has been well stated in a practical work on education, 
" That it is one of the highest efforts of genius to teach 
children."* Here illustration will afford powerful aid. With 
the advantage of interest it presents the idea twice over, 
and will succeed with the understanding and memory when 
mere didactic teaching will fail. 

An illustration is a moral painting on which the imagina- 
tion has been employed ; and it has the advantage over the 
simple annunciation of a truth, that it appeals to both the 
faculties — the reason and imagination. Like the painting 
on the canvass, which, while it charms the eye, also interests 
the mind — or like the incense which flamed on Jewish 
altar, which arrested the eye with its cloudy pillar, while 
it regaled the senses with its fragrance. 

We hear much of " the dignity of the pulpit ;" and in 
following out this view it is to be feared that much which 
would be profitable, and what would often seem to be neces- 

* Hints for conducting Sunday Schools, &c, compiled by the Committee of the 
Sunday School Society for Ireland. 1836. 



PREFACE. 



sary, is excluded. But surely a return to more of common 
sense, and greater attention to the principles by which 
human nature is guided, would answer our purpose much 
better. If, by guarding the dignity of the pulpit, we are to 
understand the rejection of whatever degrades the character 
of the message, or the messenger of the Lord of Hosts, all 
must submit to it. But if the necessity of sustaining an 
elevated style is pleaded for as essential to its true dignity 
— if what is familiar, but not trifling — homely, but not 
coarse — in a word, if the dialects in which nature is wont 
to express herself are to be excluded, — surely this should be 
resisted as an aggression on common sense. 

It should seem that the preacher, if he would proceed on 
correct principles, must place himself in the condition of his 
hearers. His own mind is individual, the minds which are 
to be acted upon are many and various. He may be open 
only to certain impressions ; his hearers, on the contrary, 
from the multiform mind which they present, are susceptible 
of every variety of impulse, and every tone of feeling. 
Whatever falls within the range of their minds, and tastes, 
is that which is suited to them. Refinement would often 
be obscurity, and scholastic precision unprofitable labour. 
To follow oar own taste, merely, would in many instances 
be overlooking that of others. It is the exact adaptation to 
the taste and feelings of the people, which often gives the 
itinerant preacher an evident superiority over the regular 
minister : not haunted with the fear of sinning against taste, 
he fearlessly introduces what will reach men's bosoms, and 
succeeds. It is not meant to advocate his coarseness and 
faults, but the necessity of a more popular and familiar address 
than generally prevails. This is the secret of the accep- 
tableness of good extempore preaching — it goes hand in hand 
with nature, and the want of this will account for the unim- 
pressiveness of so many, otherwise, able compositions. In our 
discourses, it is to be feared, we too often resemble one who 
glides over a sheet of ice where no marks are impressed or 



xii 



PREFACE. 



left, and forget that the ice must he penetrated before we 
can reach the warm springs of feeling which lie in its inner 
depths. Well has Newton observed, " The force of what we 
deliver from the pulpit is often lost by a starched, and what 
we frequently call a correct style, and especially by adding 
meretricious ornaments. I called upon a lady who had been 
robbed, and who gave me a striking account of the fact ; but 
had she put it into heroics, I should neither so well have 
understood her, nor been so well convinced that she had been 
robbed." 

Let me introduce two or three witnesses in support of 
what has been advanced. George Herbert recommends 
" the study of physic, and of herbs, while in the way of 
practice, as also by way of illustration, even as our Saviour 
made plants and seeds to teach the people ; for he is the 
true householder who bringeth out of his treasury things new 
and old— the old things of philosophy, and the new of grace, 
and maketh the one to serve the other." Again he says, 
" They say it is an ill mason that refuseth any stone, and 
there is no knowledge but in a skilful hand serves either 
positively as it is, or else to illustrate some other knowledge. 
He condescends even to the knowledge of tillage and pas- 
turage, and makes great use of them in teaching, because 
people by what they understand are best led to what they 
understand not." Again, " Sometimes he tells them stories, 
and sayings of others, according as his texts invite him, for 
these also men heed, and remember better than exhortations, 
which though earnest, yet often die with the sermon, espe- 
cially with country people who are thick and heavy, and 
hard to raise to a point of zeal and fervency, and need a 
mountain of fire to kindle them, but stories and sayings they 
will remember." 

The philosophic Knox # refers to Hannah More's recom- 
mendation of this manner of instruction as follows : — " I am 

* Remains, iii. 171. 



PREFACE. 



xiii 



ready to think he (John Wesley) came nearer your own 
most excellent idea than any other person whose writings 
I have seen. When you advise 'instructions to be commu- 
nicated, and in a way that shall interest the feelings by lively 
images,' and when you observe that ' there seems to be no 
o-ood reason why religion must be dry and uninteresting, 
while every other thing is to be made amusing ;' and ask, 
' why should not the most entertaining powers of the human 
mind be supremely consecrated to that subject which is most 
worthy of their full exercise?' — I read that of which, I must 
say, John Wesley gives me the most entire exemplification 
I have ever met with, except in the Bible." 

He afterwards says of Mr. Wesley, " I know not where 
the path of strict religion is so uniformily strewed with 
flowers, classical beauty, strokes of innocent pleasantry, 
lively observations on common life, allusions to historic facts 
and characters, ancient and modern: whatever things, in 
fact, could be resorted to for amusement by a pure and ele- 
vated mind, appear here without the least diminution of 
their native cheerfulness in the train and service of evange- 
lical piety." 

I have so far considered the use of illustration to aid in 
instruction. Its utility must be obvious for private use. 
For where shall we find truths so condensed, so strikingly 
exhibited, as when illustrated by a similitude, or an historical 
reference ? Still, it must be read with comparative disad- 
vantage, with merely a brief application connected with it. 
It is when embodied with an argument that we are most 
sensible of its force. And if this is remembered, the work 
will be read with candour, and more than its design will not 
be looked for. 

But what is man — and what is even the ministry, though 
divinely appointed, if not maintained continually by the 
inspiration of the Almighty ? While we adore the sovereign- 
ty of God, and meekly bow in reverence before the divine 
announcement that " the Spirit bloweth where it listeth" — 



xiv 



PREFACE. 



it is yet a most blessed truth that ours is " the ministration 
of the Spirit." Here is our stay and support ; and while 
we summon every energy which flesh and blood can supply 
for the work, let us look up more and more for the pro- 
mised Spirit — for "now, Lord, what wait we for? Our 
hope is in thee." 

I am aware that this is but a feeble attempt to awaken an 
interest in the use of illustrations. It is greatly to be de- 
sired that some gifted with the noble faculty of imagination 
would employ it in the illustration of christian experience, 
and of the momentous truths of the Gospel. Here Genius, 
while picturing the truths of God in imperishable colours, 
would be acting in her noblest and truest sphere. 

The illustrations selected from Spencer have undergone 
free alteration, which was indispensable ; they form a small 
collection of themselves : I have attached his name to them. 
And a few selected from living authors have been mostly 
acknowledged. With regard to others this was impossible ; 
partly because some of them had been transferred to a 
common place book without the name of the authors, but 
principally because I have exercised the liberty of altering 
them in every possible way, sometimes by amplifying the 
figure, altering its form, or applying it to some other topic ; 
at times expanding the application, or abridging it ; and 
often its character has been totally changed, so that in either 
case the author of the original figure could be no longer 
made accountable for it. Indeed it would be often difficult 
to fix on the original author of the similitude, and I am 
surprised how the writers of one century have quietly copied 
them from the writers of the preceding one. The principal 
authors who have supplied materials for illustration are our 
good old divines. I would particularize Bishops Jeremy 
Taylor, Leighton, Reynolds, and Hopkins ; and Baxter, 
Owen, Manton, Howe, Flavel, Charnock, Bates, Gurnall, 
Toplady, &c. A large proportion of them are original, and 
have been made in the exercise of my ministry. There are 



PREFACE. 



XV 



few that might not be worked out to greater advantage, but 
this would have called for the uninterrupted leisure of many 
years, and something should be left for the taste and inge- 
nuity of those who use them. In such a work there could 
be no limit to improvement. Usefulness has been consulted ; 
a finished accuracy was no part of the plan proposed. Men 
of a severe and fastidious taste may turn aside from some 
illustrations as too homely, but experience will teach them, 
if they will condescend to the trial, that these form the most 
valuable part of the work. Others may be deemed too 
simple, but he who presided at the celebrated discussion at 
Downside,* in introducing a simple illustration, made that 
just distinction which places them in the rank to which they 
are entitled. " Suffer me (he observed) to offer you a child- 
like, but not, I hope, a childish illustration of my meaning." 
Yet every taste, I believe, may here find something that is 
appropriate, "from grave to gay, from lively to severe." 

* Edwin J. Caulfield, Esq. 



Glastonbury, Dec. 1, 1839. 



CONTENTS. 



Afflictions. — I. Design and uses of Affliction. — They increase our joy and 
thankfulness ; and are a time of refreshing, 1 . God very nigh us when under 
them ; they allay corruptions, 2. Promote fruitfulness, and help us more 
speedily heavenward ; their nature is changed under the covenant ; increase 
in us a devotional spirit, 3. Make our graces fragrant, and destroy corrup- 
tions ; the necessity for them ; cause us to resemble Christ. Not one sent 
us more than necessary, 4. They disclose to us our infirmities, 5. Are re- 
lieved by communication, — and keep us from losing our way, 6. We act the 
part of children under them ; God's fatherly care in them ; we need their 
repetition, 7. Their excellent virtues, 8. Must be continued till their end is 
answered, 10. They make us fruitful, and are an evidence of God's love to 
us, 11. Are safer than prosperity; ibid. ; and are the more direct road to 
heaven, 12. Their benefits ; ibid. 13. And area safer way than prosperity, 14 ; 
they follow the godly in this world, 15. Make us cleave to Christ, and are 
sent as a trial of our sincerity, 16 ; ibid. 17. 

II. Their different effects. — Difference between the sufferings of the godly 
and others, 4. The difference when supported under them by the Holy Spirit, 
or otherwise, 2, Some made worse by them, 4 ; ibid. 5. Difference in their 
duration in the righteous and the wicked, 5. Their effects seldom permanent 
with the multitude, 8. Why it is they are often so oppressive, 14. Their effects 
in the ungodly and the righteous contrasted, 16. 

III. Counsels to the Afflicted. — Should submit to them as sent in mercy, 1. Shall 
find Christ's cross a light one when we take it up, 4. Should be regarded not. 
singly,, but as parts of a whole, 9. Should take comfort from them, 11 . Should 
be regarded as coming from God, 15 ; ibid. 17. And welcomed for their benefits, 
6, 15. 

Affections. — Their insubordination till under the law of Christ ; the connexion 
which subsists between them ; their different effects when under restraint or 
otherwise, 18; their difference as regards their intensity, 19, 20 ; and as they 
exist in the carnal and spiritual man; God not acknowledged in them, 19 ; their 
dreadful effects when insubordinate ; necessary to give beauty to religion ; the 



XV111 



CONTENTS , 



believer's affections ; their usefulness when under government, 20, 22 ; to con- 
quer we must divert them ; moderation in them recommended, 21 ; ibid. 22 ; 
must be mortified, 22 ; and subjected to our reason, 23. 

Anger. — Its character ; ibid. 23 ; should be constantly suppressed ; disarmed by 
gentleness, 23. Examples of its suppression, 24. 

Angels. — Ministering spirits, 24. 

Activity — Actions. — Should be directed to God's glory, and must be mani- 
fested, 25. Activity the life of the soul ; Luther's activity, 26. The active the 
best Christian, 27. Known by our actions ; good intentions will not constitute 
a good action ; the connexion between grace and our own diligence ; the evil of 
spiritual slothfulness, 28. 

Adoption— Assurance. — The witness of the spirit, 29. Assurance preserves us 
from the world's temptations ; not always realised, 30. The spirit of adoption 
described ; ibid. ; ibid. ; the superiority of spiritual adoption to that which is 
civil, 31 ; its two witnesses, 32. Assurance is from heaven •, the distinction 
between it and salvation, 32. The earnest of our inheritance ; may be known 
with certainty, 33, 34. The hinderance to our attainment of it, 33. God's pro- 
mises its sure foundation ; ibid. ; its rejection the effect of a diseased mind, 34 ; 
Its great blessedness ; ibid. 35. 

Believers. — I. The character and duty of Believers. — The interests of Christ 
and his kingdom committed to them, 35 ; believers look to God in all condi- 
tions, 36 ; his real condition not known to the world, 39; must be judged of 
by his habitual frame ; has no complacency in his works ; his fruitfulness often 
blighted, 40 ; how taught his weakness ; should preserve a holy fear ; under 
the restraint of the law, 42 ; should be prepared for death, 43 ; should be 
mindful of the sacredness of his name ; will recover himself when wrong ; 
surpassed in worldly wisdom ; thrives best in the shade ; dependent on his 
Saviour's presence, 46 ; should live according to his exalted rank ; should im- 
prove all for God ; has the spiritual wisdom ; and brings to God a willing 
sacrifice, 47 ; he is the true alchemist ; has the prospect of eternity opened to 
him ; will recover when fallen, 48 ; the christian the best artist, 49. Like one 
in another world ; his natural propensity to religion contrasted with that which 
is artificial, 51 ; want of consideration for young believers xeproved ; should 
always have his eye upon his work ; should not repine at the want of common 
gifts, 52 ; their record ; the believer's aspirations, 53 ; the fragrance of their 
good works, 54 ; distinguished from the mere professor, 56 ; the variations in 
their state and condition, 58. 

II. The privileges of Believers. — He is upheld by an Almighty power ; his safety 
in the midst of seeming dangers, 36 ; the certainty of his victory, 37 ; his 
weaknesses overruled for good, 41 ; how he becomes a cause of fruitfulness to 
others ; shall be restored when he falls, 42 ; his liberty secured to him by the 
law, 43 ; the healthy believer described ; gives out his fragrancy continually, 
48 ; his state when under trials, or otherwise, contrasted ; to be a christian of 
greater worth than all things, 49 ; all are in a state of life ; Christ bestows on 
them his choicest gifts, 52 ; they are anointed kings, 53 ; made to resemble 
Christ ; their name shall be cleared from all obloquy, 55 ; the probability of 
their mutual recognition, 56 ; sure to conquer ; the benefit of living nigh to 
God ; can draw upon him in their necessity, 58. 

III. Comparisons of Believers. — Compared to a fruit tree, 37 ; to a mariner, 38 ; 
compared to an exile, 42, 45 ; compared to a mirror, 43; his progress com- 



CONTENTS. 



xix 



pared to that of light, 44 ; his life compared to a column ; to mile-stones, 54 ; 
to the rose, 55 ; and to evergreens, 57. 

Blindness, Spiritual. — The carnal man blinded by Satan ; sees not the Chris - 
tian's privileges, 59 ; the universal disorder of mankind ; the faculty of spiritual 
apprehension wanting in most men, 60. 

Blessings. — Earthly fall from us ; temporal and spiritual blessings proposed as 
the objects of our choice, 61 ; not contented with the blessings bestowed on us, 
63. 

Bigots compared to mummies ; to trees ; the disorder of young converts ; un- 
natural in Christians, 64. 

Backsliders. — Their imminent danger, 64 ; their progress a gradual one ; 
ibid. 65. 

Body. — Pampered while the soul is starved, 66 ; ibid. 67 ; carefully preserved 
while the soul is abandoned to defilement, 67 ; both body and soul will be 
punished for sin, 68. 

Censure. — More inclined to censure than praise, 68, 70 ; and to see our neigh- 
bour's faults, and not our own ; the clandestine slander, 69 ; Luther's descrip- 
tion of it, 70. 

Church, — Its characteristics. — Peculiarly God's vineyard, 70 ; difference in the 
end proposed by God, and its enemies when under persecution, 71 ; never 
without both a cross and a blessing ; full of majesty when full of vitality, 72 ; 
hereafter shall, be a united church ; in all its parts wholly the work of God's 
hands, 73 ; regarded by God with peculiar delight, 74 ; its safety secured by 
Christ's presence ; its existence dependent on the exercise of Christ's offices, 
75 ; God expects our presence in his earthly temple, 76 ; instances of God's 
overthrowing its enemies, 78 ; diversity of characters mingled together in it, 
79 ; Satan content that we should be members of the visible church ; its ex- 
tremity the forerunner of its revival, 81 ; situated in the midst of perils, 
81. 

II. Comparisons of the Church. — The church when under the law and the gospel 
compared, 72 ; compared to a procession, 73 ; to the moon, 77 ; ibid. 79 ; to 
the sea, 79 ; to a temple, 80. 

Christ. — I. The Deity, and Mediatorial work of Christ. — A demonstration that 
God's justice was satisfied by Christ ; how God manifests himself in Christ ; 
why the stores of grace are treasured up in him, 85 ; the union of the two 
natures of Christ, 86, 92 ; light in the world before, and after Christ's coming ; 
greater glory to God from the redemption than from the condemnation of the 
world ; Christ's victory over his enemies, 87 •, and over Satan, 91 ; the vine of 
Eschol an emblem of him, 89 ; his immensity and glory the greater, the nearer 
we approach unto him ; no injustice in his suffering for us, 90 ; his blood 
must cleanse our works; he must enableu s to see our guilt, 92 ; adorns the 
church with his own righteousness ; his incarnation a time of great rejoicing, 
95 ; compared with Socrates, 98 ; all believers partake of the same fulness of 
Christ ; his blood cleanseth from all sin ; his name refreshing to the dying 
soul, 99. The inquirer conducted to his cross ; his coming in the flesh the 
central point where the course of events meets ; how his righteousness is im- 
puted to us ; and how his merits were efficacious before his incarnation ; his 
blood pleads for us in heaven, 100. His character done homage to by his ene- 
mies ; how he is God manifest; his sympathy for his people, 10] . His life 



XX 



CONTENTS. 



exhibited by the types and prophecies, 102. He excels all friends ; cannot 
forget his people in his glorified state, 103. His one offering a better satisfac- 
tion than many payments ; can never slight the feeblest believer ; Christ an 
everlasting foundation, 104. A Palladium for the soul, 106. In becoming 
man did not cease to be God ; the cause of our fruitfulness ; his eternal gene- 
ration and oneness with the Father, 107. Has bought us with all our imper- 
fections ; his redemption the only finished work, 108. 
II. Our duty in relation to Christ. — Should be suitably affected at the mention 
of his name, 82 ; and appropriate to ourselves the merits of his work ; and 
must honour him the same as the Father, 83. Must make an open confession 
of him, 83, 91, 97. Not sufficient that he is publicly exhibited, 87. No 
security but in him, 89. Must put on his righteousness, 91. Shall be no 
losers by confessing him ; Christ the believer's treasure, 93 : and the only 
object of his supreme affection, 92. The All in All of the believer, ibid, 96. 
The difference with which he is regarded by the believer and the ungodly, 97. 
Looking unto Jesus; we cannot enter heaven as Christ did, 102. Must be 
regarded through no medium ; in what sense his love may be comprehended, 
103. How we should regard him as our High Priest, 105. Why he is so 
little regarded ; we can only come to God by him ; wisdom of dependence on 
him proved by the experience of others, 106. 
Christianity. — Is a practical thing ; and made plain to us by Christ, 1 08. Its 
mysteries no objection to its credibility; its evidences of three kinds, 109. 
Prophecy and miracles its credentials, 110. 
Character. — To be estimated by its totality ; how it is manifested ; its great 
variety of character the church's ornament, 111. The most excellent, the most 
open to spiritual guidance ; difficulties attending a change of character, 113. 
Communion. — God a common bond of communion for all believers ; ibid. ; 
the perfection of it in heaven, 114. Communion of saints profitable; our 
spirits influenced by our associates, 115. 
Comfort — Consolation. — Dependent on the Holy Spirit ; its variations in our- 
selves, and not in God, 115 ; our comforts an evidence of our estate, and should 
be drawn from Christ ; how Ave lose them, 116. Only to be found in Christ ; 
our first consolations succeeded by doubts and troubles, 117. 
Covetousness. — Unprofitable life of the covetous rich man, 117. The covetous 
never satisfied ; the sin of old age ; and is a robbery of the common weal, 
118. 

Custom. — Camal men cling to their sensual customs ; custom in sinning no 
plea with God, 119. Difficulty in breaking from sinful habits, 120. 

Creatures. — Can only be trusted in their connexion with God, 120. A curse 
to the ungodly ; a curse to us, if not sanctified ; why we should not seek happi- 
ness in them, 121. Cannot profit us without God, 122. 

Conversion. — I. Origin and nature of Conversion. — It restrains our corruptions ; 
reformation no substitute for conversion; the progress towards conversion, 
123. The understanding converted, not the heart ; conversion is attraction 
towards God, 124. A drawing to God, without violence to the will, 125. The 
turning point in conversion ; some of its properties, 126. A knowledge of the 
heart necessary to conversion, 127. A new impulse given to the faculties in 
conversion ; self-flattery a great hinderance to conversion, 129 ; and aversion 
to come to Christ to be saved, 130. Heart must be emptied of earthly vani- 
ties in order to conversion, 131. 



CONTENTS. 



xxi 



II. Evidences of Conversion. — Only evidenced by the constancy of our graces, 
122. Our own experience no test to try the conversion of others, 126. Refor- 
mation not conversion, 127. Often doubted without reason ; the truth of it 
made evident by degrees, 128. 

Converted. — More converted by the ministry than by reading, 122. Men con- 
verted at all hours ; the time not always ascertained, 124. God's elect cannot 
die unconverted, 130. The diversity of ways by which men are converted, 128. 

Covenant. — Not broken by infirmities ; difference between the first and 
second covenant, 131. The covenant of faith revealed by degrees to the 
church, 132 ; and why it was so, 133. 

Contentment. — Will bring a blessing with it, 133. And is a preservative from 
worldly temptations ; the comfort of it; eases our burden in life's journey, 
134 ; and preserves us free from disturbance, 135. 

Chakity. — Hieroglyphically described, 135. Should be universal ; the wisdom 
of giving to the poor ; should be bestowed with discretion ; folly of exercising 
it on the body, and neglecting the soul, 136. Christians are stewards ; the true 
measure of charity, 137. 

Conscience. — Its different operations ; how to preserve it tender, 137. Its omni- 
potency ; though stupified for a time, shall awake to despair •, the burden of a 
wounded conscience, 138. A recorder of all our ways ; a good conscience will 
not leave us at death, 139. 

Corruptions. — Concealed, but not removed ; gain ground through negligence ; 
stirred up against Christ, 140. Ungoverned passions an evidence of weakness 
of grace, and of good when mourned over ; Christ can remove them ; faith re- 
veals them, 141. Our own fully described in the Scriptures ; destined to fall 
before grace, 142. They wound our souls, and discourage faith and hope ; 
examples of their government in heathens, 143. Corruptions in ourselves, not 
the creatures ; our nature to follow them, 144. Mortified in us, not destroyed ; 
their indwelling; their growth rapid, not permanent in the Christian, 145. 
Morality cannot change their nature, 146. 

Death, Spiritual. — is a spiritual sleep ; the spiritual sleep compared to the 
natural, 146. A weight pressing down the soul to destruction, 147. 

Danger. — Folly not to be mindful of it, 147. Danger of missing the narrow 
way; wisdom of Agur's prayer to be preserved from it, 148. Danger in 
delaying our intentions ; in procrastination ; ibid; ibid, 149. 

Death. — The dead and living united in Christ ; its seed is sown in us ; no par- 
ticle of the body destroyed by death, 150. A momentary separation of 
believers ; should be welcomed by them ; the folly of unconcern in the midst 
of death, 151. Our graces more perfect at death ; it will bring us to a land of 
friends, 152. The grave perfumed by Christ ; effect of the death of others 
momentary ; should teach us how to estimate the distinctions of life, 153. The 
precise moment of it ordered by infinite wisdom, 154. The believer victorious 
in death ; should be welcomed by him, 155. Its uncertainty should make us 
watchful, 156. 

Division — Differences ; among brethren hard to be reconciled, 1 56 ; their evils, 
157, 159. The glory of reconciling them, 157. Differences without discord to 
be tolerated ; will be lost in union at death, 158. Should submit to sacrifices 
for union, 159. Maintained by pride, 160. See Union. 

Duty. — Safety in the path of duty ; the orbit of duty assigned to each, 160. Its 
manifold obligations should be felt by us ; rightly performed when they lead 



xxii 



CONTENTS. 



us to Christ, 161. Duties multiplied in the place of believing, 162. Our own 
advantage, not God's ; hypocrisy in them ; social duties an imitation of God ; 
the planetary and the social systems compared, 163. What is required in duty ; 
weakness strengthened in the performance of it, 164. Facility in it promoted 
by constancy, 1 65. 

Education. — The care of Christianity in it contrasted with the practice of hea- 
thenism, 165. How to estimate its effects-, not merely from its present fruits, 
166. The practice of the Jews in education, 167. . 

Experiences. — Their certainty, how demonstrated, 167. The enlightened con- 
science conversant with them, 168. Compared to the evidence of sight, 169. 
Confirmed by the united testimony of others, 170. Should have recourse to 
them in doubt ; consistent with the least true knowledge ; known and felt by 
all believers, 171. Can be subjected to a test like other things, 172. Must not 
usurp the place of trust in the promises ; the best instructors of God's dealings, 
173. 

Examination, Self. — Must guard against hypocrisy in it ; God's balances the 
only true balances, 174. The need of testing our sincerity a proof of weak- 
ness ; exhorted to practise it, 175. 

Election. — Holiness not the cause of it ; distinguished from effectual calling ; 
the elect will all be converted ; assurance of it a cause of joy, ] 76. The many 
links in the chain of election ; must look to God's mercies, not to election, for 
encouragement to believe, 177. Sanctification the evidence of election ; ibid. 178. 

Envy. — Repines at the good fortune of others, 179. More destructive in its 
effects than anger, 180. 

Example.— -Its happy effects on others ; the modern and primitive Christian con- 
trasted ; the powerful influence of Scripture characters, 181. 

Error. — The scandal of persisting in it •, its destructive effects, 1 81. Why com- 
pared to leaven, 182. 

Faith, I. — The nature and character of Faith. — Historical belief contrasted with 
true faith ; faith in the promises compared with the possession of them, 182. 
Weak grace growing up by faith ; the reciprocal influence of faith and works, 
183, 193. Weak faith marvellously preserved; contemplates the things of 
eternity, 183. How things are regarded by faith and infidelity ; it is active and 
purifying, 184. The analogy of faith in interpreting scripture, J85. The 
actings of a strong and a weak faith contrasted ; ibid ; ibid. 185-6. The test of 
a true faith, 189. The heart purified believes God, 190. The difference 
between walking by faith and by sight ; between common and true faith, 191. 
The insufficiency of belief from natural principles, 192. The profession of it 
the church "s distinction ; it reveals the hidden truths of scripture, 193; salva- 
tion only by faith which looks to Jesus, 194. God dishonoured by unbelief in 
his children ; the insufficiency of a wavering faith, 195. Preserved from perish- 
ing ; diligence in Christians nullified by unbelief, 196 ; the perseverance of 
faith ; reveals truths which reason could never discover, 197. 

II. Importance of Faith. — The obedience of faith required of us ; ibid. 186. 
Should regard all things through the glass of faith, 188. Christ must be enter- 
tained in the heart by faith ; the help and success it affords us, 189. Must be 
mixed with the ordinances, 190. Should appropriate by faith the offers of the 
gospel, 192. 

Family. — Ungodly members in the religious family ; what the religious man is to 
his family, 198 ; its piety preserved in its posterity, 1 99. 



CONTENTS. 



xxiii 



Formality. — In public worship described ; the idolatry practised in it, 199. 

Forgiveness.— The excellency of a forgiving spirit, 200. Why God withholds a 
sense of pardon ; should manifest it by returning good for evil, 201. 

God. — I. The nature and attributes of God.— His condescension in describing his 
attributes, 202. The attraction and influence of his attributes, 206. They 
are manifested only in redemption ; his glory in due time revealed to 
the believer, 207. The different effects of God's power on the righteous 
and the wicked. 209. His goodness rightly seen only by the believer ; reason 
fails in its endeavours to comprehend God, 210. His greatness contrasted 
with that of the creature ; the influence of God in redemption on character, 
212 ; his love and faithfulness never eclipsed; the opposite properties of God's 
attributes; his faithfulness seen in sanctified afflictions, 216. His wonderful 
mercy and patience ; can only see God in Jesus Christ, 217. His infinite 
greatness ; God defined, 220. His justice defined, 222. 

II. The Works and Declaration of God. Why compared to a rock, 203. His wis- 
dom in saving us worthy of admiration ; the effect of his greater love which he 
bears to his church ; his care of them as their good husbandman, 204. Delivers 
his people according to his own ways ; in his withdrawing from them does not 
cease to love them, 205. Why his dispensations arenot understood, 206. Will 
bring our motives and feelings into judgment, 208. Will supply the want of all 
friends to the believer, 209. How God hardens the heart, 210. Will perfect 
his work in us, 21 2. A fountain that never fails ; God the agent in all things ; 
worketh all things for good according to his own ways, 213. His mercy 
triumphing over his justice, — and his; patience with sinners, 214. Will 
be justified in all his dispensations, 215. If God leave us, all good will 
forsake us ; his different manifestations of himself, 218. God is all-sufficient ; 
his sovereignty in withdrawing his presence ; brings to nought the machina- 
tions of the wicked ; his union with our souls in heaven, 219. Judgment his 
strange work, 220. His seeming desertions the effect of his love, 223. 

III. Our duty and feelings towards Him. — A sight of his glory will strengthen us 
for trials, 201 ; and encourage us to go forwards, 202 ; the evils that would 
ensue, should the church cease to glorify God ; the folly of forsaking him for 
the creatures, 202 ; we glorify him by reflecting his image, 204. Should 
find full contentment in him alone, 205. The necessity for a frequent remem- 
brance of his mercies, 207. How we can serve him rightly and truly, 208, — > 
and acceptably, 211. The excellency of true devotedness to God ; must dedi- 
cate all to him, — and to his glory, 211. The unregenerate not within reach of 
his attraction, 212. The profit of yielding up ourselves to him, 21 5, 221. Born 
to glorify him, 215. Giving up all for God exemplified, 221. Faith in Christ 
increased by dwelling nigh to God, 222. All the glory of our works must be 
ascribed to him, 223. 

Gospel. — Pardon and holiness united in the gospel, 223. How it sinks all dis- 
tinctions among men, 224. Its different effects ; how it is propagated ; apathy 
in regard to the gospel, 225. Its divine character ; its universal adaptation to 
the family of man, 226. Can predict from Scripture its certain triumph ; its 
progress described, 227. Its invitation, 228. Occupies the various parts of the 
earth successively ; its blessings open to all, 229. Its mysteries known only by 
meditation, 230. 

Grace of God.— Its declension in old age, 231. Our need of continual supplies 
of grace, 232, 235, 239. Its progress to perfection, 232. The Christian's heart 



XXIV 



CONTENTS 



never without grace; compared with glory, 233. Weak grace is real grace, 
234. Diversity of attainments in grace, 235. Variations in its state ; its use- 
lessness when in a state of decay, 236. Its nature to be advancing to perfection ; 
the misery of losing God's grace ; its progress in the good heart, 237. Its ope- 
rations silent and unseen ; it sets the heart upon God ; does no violence to 
man's free will, 238. Is engrafted on a corrupt nature ; weak grace liable to 
excesses; true grace improves on inspection : its beauty concealed by outward 
uncomeliness, 239. The union of concurring, and habitual grace ; its fruitful- 
ness restrained by corruptions ; ibid. 240. Compared with nature, and glory, 
242 . Will triumph at last over all obstacles ; Christ the foundation of grace ; 
reveals to us our weakness and ignorance, 243. Shall be quickened in its decay 
under temptations, — and strengthened and established by them. i ; 44. Its bud- 
dings a presage of further growth ; mistakes as to the truth and strength of 
grace, 245. Can never perish, 246. 

IL Our duty and feelings in regard to it. — Must use the means to cherish its 
growth ; how our admiration of grace is increased, 232. Where it is small, 
hardly discerned, 233. Our desire to purchase it, 234. Mistaken fears of its 
decrease, 236 ; ibid. 237. Motives towards its diligent improvement ; the trial 
whether we have grace, 241. Must give God the praise of it. 242. Must stock 
ourselves with it against evils, 244. Must be kept in continual exercise, 245 ; 
and inquire whether it is in daily operation, 246. 

Happiness. — The variety of false appearances of happiness, 247. The world's 
happiness, and that of religion contrasted ; the happiness and troubles of the 
righteous reconciled, 248. Death will introduce the righteous to happiness, 249. 

Hope. — Compared with succcess ; its animating property ; hope in Christ com- 
pared to spring ; that of the righteous and the ungodly contrasted, 250. 

Heaven. — Holiness our qualification, not our title to it ; ibid ; love to God a 
proof of our election to heaven, 251. Why it is despised: great gifts a hin- 
derance in our way heavenwards, 252. Its elements must be formed in our 
souls, 253. Heaven, as revealed in the gospel, never conceived by man ; prepa- 
ration for it necessary, 254. We receive now only its first-fruits ; the proba- 
bility of varieties of character in heaven. 255, — and that our past life will be 
present to us again ; how the saints will differ in glory, 256, 258. What it is 
which intercepts our sight of heaven, 256, — and stands in the way of our 
pursuit of it ; how we may try our title to it ; the union of all excellencies in 
heaven, 257. How to fix our heart there, 258. How we create a barrier in our 
way heavenwards ; the infamy that will attend our loss of it, 259. Should be 
habitually seeking it, 260. 

Heart. — God only knows it ; the worldly heart can never be satisfied, 261. 
Compared to a garden ; the growth of sin and godliness in it contrasted : reli- 
gion preserves it in a just equipoise; the sinner's heart compared to a sepul- 
chre, 262. Its unfruitfulness in many ; the heart pure, though corruptions 
arise in it, 263. Must be kept with all diligence, 263, 264, 267. Compared to 
a ship in the sea ; to an ant's nest ; no reformation effectual but that of the 
heart, 264. Desires for inward reformation often questionable •. the disordered 
heart will manifest itself by the conversation, 265. Divided between God and 
the world ; must get a new heart ; the old and the new heart contrasted, 266. 
An evidence of its right condition, 267. The heart secret and deceitful, 268. 

Holiness. — No progress in holiness ; must not be ashamed of it ; the church's 
true weapons ; an innate propensity to holiness in the believer, 269. Disordered 



CONTENTS. 



XXV 



by worldly things ; its progress compared to that of daylight, 270. Holiness 
described restores the soul to the comfort of health, 271. The effect of union 
with Christ ; must be preserved by keeping nigh to Christ ; its light changes, 
and renews the soul, 272. The most glorious attribute of God ; the family 
likeness of God's children ; sincere and counterfeit holiness contrasted, 273. 
Essential to the enjoyment of happiness in heaven, 274. See Image of God. 

Humility. — Christians grow in humility ; delights in concealments ; abounds 
where there is most grace ; its growth favoured by a lowly station, 275. Has 
nothing in it low or degrading ; contrasted with pride ; its connexion with 
true joy ; keeps us continually dependent on grace, 276. Necessary in order 
to salvation ; the true ballast for the soul ; its life and character described, 277. 

Hypocrisy. — Abounds in the professing world ; hypocrites form no part of the 
cbnrch ; hypocrisy described imder an emblem : no person or place wholly 
iree from it, 278. Its folly and unprofitableness; charity not violated in pro- 
nouncing on it, 279. Exposed by temptations ; will be at last discovered ; 
would conceal itself from God, 280. The injury done to religion by hypo- 
crisy ; it is the worst of all sins ; the breaking off from gross sins will not 
clear us of hypocrisy, 281. Often discovered with difficulty ; hypocrites atten- 
tive to small matters ; the hypocrisy of wanderers from one communion of 
Christians to another, 282. The hypocrite described ; hated, and trusted by 
none, 283. Flourishes outwardly as others ; is satisfied with the smallest 
attainments, 284. 

Ignorance. — Casts a veil over spiritual things ; deprives us of the benefit of 
truth ; and is inexcusable under ample means of grace, 285 ; ibid. 286. 

Image of God. — Where begun shall be perfectly restored, 286 ; ibid. 287. 
Why we must bear God's image ; ibid. 288. It constitutes the oneness of 
believers ; its restoration to the soul a gradual work ; it is a living image ; 
and is complete in all spiritual graces •, how it has been destroyed, 290. See 
Holiness. 

Infirmities. — Only temporary in believers, and must be viewed with candour, 

291. Much grace often discovered in them ; profit, if not pleasure, to be found 
in them ; God pities them when mourned over, 291. Shall issue in the be- 
liever's increased strength ; his weakness secure in the power of God's grace, 

292. Infirmities the remains of weakness engendered by sin, 293. 
Justification. — Its inestimable value with the believer, 293. Is not affected 

by the strength or weakness of our faith ; justification by faith the most glo- 
rious of all the promises, 294. In what way a man is counted righteous ; the 
twofold character of justification ; not to be purchased by merit, 295. Good 
works the way to our possession, not the cause of it, — appendages to it, but not 
the procuring cause \ the folly of seeking to purchase it, 296. Only ob- 
tained by Christ's righteousness ; confounded with absolute mercy, 297. See 
Righteousness, Self, and Salvation. 
Joy. — Endangered by unnecessary commerce with the world ; dwells in a broken 
spirit, 297. Worldly and spiritual joys contrasted, 298, 299. The Christian's 
joy inward and satisfying r ; not necesssrily connected with grace ; its degree 
must not be judged by .the feelings of sense, 298. It is comely, and befitting 
the Christian, 300. 

Judgment. — The remembrance of it profitable, 300 ; ibid. 30]. The source of 



xxvi 



CONTENTS. 



future judgments ; the awful doom of the lost soul, 302. The classification of 
characters at the final judgment, 303. 

Knowledge. — The use and abuse of learning ; theoretical and practical know- 
ledge contrasted ; the blessed effects of true knowledge ; difference between 
knowledge in God and man, 304. The Christian's knowledge contrasted with 
that of others, 305, 308. Mere growth in knowledge a monstrous deformity ; 
religion without learning ; the guilt of neglecting, or withholding it from 
others ; contrasted with ignorance, 305. A greater knowledge than we possess 
inconsistent with our present condition ; too limited to judge of consistencies in 
the moral and spiritual world, 306, 308 ; or to see truth in its various aspects, 
307. Sufficient revealed for faith, though not for curiosity, 309. The evils 
of seeking to be wise above what is revealed, 310. 

Law. — In what way it adds strength to sin, 310. Its convictions must precede 
the comforts of the gospel ; the law not destroyed, 311. Happiness dependent 
on our subjection to God's law, 312. 

Life. — God works an evidence of it ; the Christian's estimation of the book of 
life, 312. No names blotted out of this book ; religion alone comprehends all 
the good of life ; life a suspension of God's judgments, 313. A probation; 
natural and spiritual life contrasted as to their duration ; motion not an evi- 
dence of life, 314. 

Light. — Much knowledge and little light often found together, 315. The light 
of grace and faith ; the light of the hypocrite and the believer seen in its pro- 
gress ; the powerful allurements of worldly delusions, 316. Light renders the 
two dispensations the same in substance, though not in degree ; to what extent 
we should seek it ; must let it shine out ; the heart must be prepared to re- 
ceive it, 317. The emptiness of all things without the light of God ; light in 
the natural and spiritual man contrasted ; the Christian never wholly without 
light, 318. 

Love. — Melts, and subdues the heart ; and grows purer as we advance in grace, 
319. How love to God will manifest itself-, the obedience of love full of 
sweetness ; Christ's cross the highest display of God's love ; must try the sin- 
cerity of our love to God, 320. God's children obey from love ; but little 
direct and pure love for God, 321 ; ibid. 322. Loving God in the creatures, 
322. God's love seen best by the humblest ; how love to God must be ex- 
cited, 323, 324. Indispensable in the ministry ; still survives amidst the con- 
tentions of the church, 323. Why God's love is so little felt ; the most ex- 
cellent of all our graces; religion a service of love, 324. The christian's love 
to God compared to filial love, 325. The unchangeableness of God's love ; 
love to Christ will bear no rivalship ; true love constant and universal, 326. 
Love to the brethren the measure of our love to Christ ; the service of love and 
fear contrasted ; a personal interest in redemption creates love, 328. 

Man. — The offspring of mercy ; his nature exalted at the Incarnation, 330. 
What man is without religion ; his fall an evil of infinite magnitude ; com- 
pared to dust ; going on to perfection, 330. 

Mercy. — We only seek it in the last extremity, 331. The unmerciful shall find 
no mercy ; bestowed on the vilest, for Christ's sake, 332. The riches of God's 
mercy ; to be one of the family of Christ a great mercy ; the time of mercy 
limited, 333. 

Meditation. — Its excellencies ; a sense of infirmities should not keep us from it, 



CONTENTS. 



xxvii 



334. Becomes easy by perseverance, 335, 336 ; and gives life and energy to 
our actions ; its profitableness, 335. The excellency of occasional meditation ; 
ibid. 336. It kindles the affections ; its benefit before prayer, 337 ; and be- 
fore hearing the word ; the source of comfort, 338. Will convey no benefit 
without a pure heart ; should choose fruitful topics for meditation, 340. 
Ministry — Means of Grace. — The ministry effects a revolution, 340. Requires 
wisdom and strength ; the authority of ministers not sufficiently regarded, 341. 
The necessity of zeal in preaching ; and of being called by God to the work ; 
sin must be continually dwelt on ; the benefit of amplification in the preaching, 
342; and of a holy violence ; perfection not to be expected in ministers; the 
reward of saving a soul ; the number of cases to be consulted in preaching, 343. 
Rebuking sin in private a part of the ministry, 344. Ministers to be honoured 
above all men by the command of God ; should preserve a sense of God's om- 
nipresence, 345. The truths of the ministry little heeded, 346. The unpro- 
fitableness of hearing without meditation, 347 ; ibid. 348. Should inquire 
what profit we derive from it ; Satan permits our use of the means of grace, 348. 
Hearing for pleasure and not profit ; ibid. 349. Ordinances cannot profit 
without the Holy Spirit, 350, 354. Shall not need them in heaven ; diligence 
in the use of them indispensable, 350 ; ibid. 351. The want of earnestness in 
them lamented ; the necessity for ordinances; the carnal man and the believer 
contrasted in the use of ordinances, 352. The church dependent on them ; do 
not constitute religion ; not to be condemned for inefficacy ; to neglect them a 
want of love to God, 353. Religious attainments only secured by the patient 
use of means ; the need of constancy in the use of them, 354 ; ibid. ; ibid. 
355 ; ibid. 356. 

Mortification. — When sin is mortified, we begin to feel its burden, 356. 
Success in prayer dependent on it ; a necessary part of religion ; but evaded 
under false pretences, 357. 

New Birth — Mew Creature. — The new birth a meetness for heaven ; compared 
to seed ; the symptoms that attend it described, 358. The necessity for the 
new birth ; an ancient custom at baptism ; all the graces of the spirit compre- 
hended in the new creature, 359. The spring a type of the new creation, 360. 
A new heart accompanies the new birth ; how we must be made new creatures, 
361. New birth compared to life from the dead ; carnal men see no beauty in 
the new creature, 362. 

Nature. — The natural man a monster ; the soul by nature enslaved to the pas- 
sions ; has no principle of recovery to spiritual life in herself, 363. Full of 
self-righteousness ; its wretched estate, and its inconstancy, 364. How it 
excels the angelical nature ; its lawless condition ; works a deceitful work, 365. 
Brings forth only weeds, and evil continually ; produces moral truth ; nothing- 
can change it but the Holy Spirit, 366. 

Obedience. — True obedience is without partiality ; has an eye to God's com- 
mandment, 367. Though weak, always pleasing to him ; natural impotency 
dispenses not with its obligations, 368. 

Perfection. — The Christian's graces eventually perfected ; our progress in it 
gradual ; the work of grace destined to go on to perfection, 369, 371. A re- 
lative perfection explained ; ibid. 370. The soul advancing unceasingly to 
perfection, 370. 

Perseverance. — The ground on which it is built ; the folly of denying it ; its 
certainty, 372. Ensured to the believer ; secured by the believer's union with 



XXV111 



CONTENTS. 



Christ, 373 ; and from God's tenderness to his little ones ; must go forwards 
under all circumstances ; the certainty of our falling, but for the covenant, 374. 
The ground of its certainty ; can only he maintained by continual exertion, 
375. 

Persecution. — An instance of support under it ; cannot prevent the believer's 
going forwards, 376. Become habituated to it ; backsliding when exposed to 
it, 377. 

Peace. — Of God passes all understanding ; an even and settled peace the portion 
of many, 377. No peace before reconciliation with God; a peaceable dispo- 
sition true nobility ; a false peace maintained by many, 378. A true and a 
false peace, maintained only by looking continually to Jesus, 379. The differ- 
ence between peace with God, and peace of conscience ; the peace of the 
church amidst unquietness ; sacrificed in disputing for truth, 380. 

Praise. — Defined ; a cause of praise, that we are not enduring God's wrath ; 
unworthy to receive it while in the body, 381. An interest in redemption will 
awaken hearty praise ; a most profitable duty ; only due to God for our works 
and graces; to withhold it brings injury on our souls, 382. 

Profession, — A good one only until it is tried ; many fair professors the church's 
enemies ; a false profession often looks better than a true one, 383. Believers 
not living suitably to their profession ; a time-serving one, 384. It assumes 
many forms ; a cold and barren profession ; one not possessing the sweet 
savour of holiness, 385. 

Prosperity. — Cannot deliver us from spiritual dangers; an encumbrance ; re- 
laxes our' spiritual frame ; and needs watchfulness ; the portion of the wicked 
when believers are in affliction, 386. An excellent estate when attended with 
humihty, 387. 

Promises. — Worthy of all trust, 387. Believed in generally, but not in their 
particulars ; delay in their fulfilment a wise provision, 387. Our encourage- 
ment to seek them ; their foundation, 389. Must lay hold of them in difficul- 
ties ; we possess them in connexion with the covenant, 390. 

Prayer. — Has no value without earnestness ; the neglect of it deplored, 390. 
Lays no obligation on God ; preparation should precede it ; an instance of an 
answer to prayer, 391. Its achievements described in an allegory; its mighty 
power, 392. The great encouragement to it ; unmortified sins an obstacle to 
answers to prayer, 393, 394. Designed for a memorial to God, 394. Thehin- 
derance of sinful thoughts ; what it is to pray in faith ; designed to build us up, 
and raise our hearts higher and nearer to God, 395. The evidence » when 
prayer is unanswered ; God gives us more than we ask in it ; should realise his 
glorious presence when praying, 396. The need of restraining grace in prayer : 
the unprofitableness of all diligence without it, 397. Insincerity in prayer, 
though not suspected ; written prayer not suited to all the circumstances of the 
soul, 398. Should dwell in it as in an atmosphere ; an index of our spiritual 
condition, 399. A curse resting on a prayerless house ; prayer without ceasing ; 
the root of all our graces ; the receipt of blessings should quicken unto prayer, 
400. Cannot succeed without faith ; connects the soul with God and his 
strength ; the evil of a worldly spirit in prayer, 401. 

Providence. — Anxiety a distrust of it ; its universal presence ; the benefits of 
trusting in a special providence, 402. The all-sufficiency of its provisions ; 
should strengthen our trust in it ; good and evil subjected to its control, 404. 



CONTENTS. 



XXIX 



Daily providences not regarded ; ibid. •, its seeming disorder, but real harmony 
405. Overlooked in the ordinary events of life, 406. Chequered with joy 
and sorrow; recognised by answers to prayer, 407. The perfection of its final 
results ; the folly of denying a special providence, 408, 410. Trust in it will 
not be disappointed ; not recognised by the best and wisest heathens, 409. A 
belief in a special and a general providence contrasted ; an objection to it an- 
swered, 410. 

Reason.— Needs divine illumination ; its errors corrected by faith ; the evil of 
trusting to it, 411. 

Redemption. — Described in an allegory, 411. Should be filled with admiration 
at its wonders, 413. 

Religion. — Its controlling power ; H. More's religion described ; its power to 
invigorate the soul ; young converts encouraged by tasting its sweetness, 414. 
The religion of a formalist and a believer contrasted ; an attention to externals, 
and the neglect of essentials, 415. Its pleasures omnipresent ; true religion 
described; admits of no neutrality; its beauty disfigured by man, 416. Sim- 

! plicity its true character; the emptiness of wisdom without religion, 417. 
Diffuses a perpetual sunshine ; a dark and enlightened view of it contrasted, 
418. Propagated at first by miracles ; that of Christ can alone meet the wants 
of a sinner, 419. How we should exercise wisdom in it ; the excellency of dis- 
cretion, 420 ; ibid. 421, 423. 

Repentance. — Must extend to every sin,— and must be a daily business, 422 ; 
ibid. 423. The danger of delaying it, 423. Causes joy in heaven ; an indica- 
tion of sincerity, 424. 

Resurrection. — Shall restore to us a glorified body, 424. The beauty of the 
saints at the resurrection ; will clothe us with immortality, 425. 

Rewards. — The prospect of them a help to conversion, 426. Whatever is done 
for God shall be rewarded, 427. 

Riches. — The benefits of bestowing them on the poor, — and the folly of amassing 
them, 427. The use and abuse of wealth ; ibid. 428. The love of them unfits 
us for heaven ; the danger of riches, 429. 

Righteousness, Self. — How we are delivered from it, 430, 431. Takes Christ's 
merits to make up weight, 431. The righteousness of a modern pharisee ; will 
bring ruin on us ; reluctancy to renounce it, 432. God's abhorrence of it, 433. 
See Salvation. 

Salvation. — By grace, the true ground of confidence, 433 ; not dangerous to 
good works, 434. Must be founded on mere grace, 434. Alone through 
mercy, 435. 

Satan.— His artifice, 435, 436, 437, 438, 439 ; ibid, 439. Tempts us in afflic- 
tion ; in prosperity, and in adversity, 439. 

Scriptures. — To what extent and degree they are inspired ; the neglect of them, 
440. Monitors of our dangers; not understood without the aid of the Spirit ; ibid. ; 
how distinguished from the writings of men, 442, 443. May see ourselves in them, 
as in a mirror, 442. No study so profitable as that of the scriptures ; Chris- 
tians have an instinctive love of them, 444. The benefit of a comprehensive 
view of them ; their wonderful properties, 445, 447. Should approach them 
with a pure mind ; their perpetual freshness and beauty ; they pass a verdict on 
our state and prospects, 445. The comprehensiveness of their principles ; the 
evil of unskilfulness in the word ; Christians love a conformity to them, 446. 



XXX 



CONTENTS. 



their inestimable value, 447. Should be studied with diligence •, their bene- 
ficial effects, though not remembered, 443. Must be read with meditation ; 
their spiritual meaning a mystery to the natural man, 449. Every part of the 
scriptures profitable, 450. 

Self. — Self-conceit compared to drunkenness ; a monstrous idol, 450. Freed 
from its dominion by conversion, 451. 

Sincerity. — Demands absolute obedience ; attendance on the ordinances no 
proof of it ; may consist with corruptions and infirmities, 452. A covering for 
the saints' infirmities, 453. 

Spirituality. — Maintained by the Spirit ; the Christian aspires for its increase, 
453. The aversion to it of the carnal mind ; we have no power to create it; 
outward ordinances cannot produce it ; distinguishes the believer from the 
carnal man, 454. Is a constant preparation for God's service, — and is content 
with his approbation, 455. Strengthened by using the means of grace ; a gauge 
to measure it, 456. Its imperfection in the Christian ; should be maintained 
with the greatest care, 457 ; condemnation, if not aspiring for its increase ; its 
nature to increase ; in what sense it is life, 458. See Holiness. 

Spirit, Holy. — Should attend to its least intimation ; its benefits to the soul ; 
the scriptures unintelligible without it, 459. The soul destitute of it must 
perish •, may work successfully in the midst of sin and infirmities ; its nature to 
increase its influences in the soul, 460. Its secret, but effectual operations ; 
what it is to walk in the Spirit, 461. In what way it reveals the spiritual im- 
port of the scriptures, 462. Infuses a new principle into the believer ; its seal- 
ing impressions should be preserved with care, 463. Our invisible connexion 
with it •, not limited in its operations, 464. 

Sin. — I. Its Nature, — Real convictions contrasted with common views of sin, 465. 
Their malignity, — and infinite number ; the workings of indwelling sin, 466. Its 
deceitfulness, — and will be punished in the believer, 467. An evidence of life 
when sin is burdensome ; mortified by means of communion with God, 468. 
The nature of man cannot cease from sin ; may be restrained, but not subdued ; 
ibid. ; one sin exchanged for another, 469. Its exposure through temptation, 

470, 477. Why we may abstain from particular sins, 470. Its difference in the 
Christian, and the ungodly, 471, 477. It hardens the heart imperceptibly, 

471. The progress of grace restrained by indwelling sin, 472. Has infected 
creation with its ruinous effects ; why it was permitted, 473. The connexion 
between our own. and the sins of others under judgments, 474. Their infirmity 
revealed to us by the law ; sin the aim and pursuit of the ungodly, 475. * Sin- 
ning against convictions, 476. How God is conversant with sin, 478 ; ibid. 
479. Our lusts the occasion of sin; interwoven with our nature, 480. Its 
awful character manifested in the death of Christ ; the believer and the un- 
godly contrasted when under sin, 481, — and in their feelings towards it, 483. 
The difficulty of dislodging it, — and its resistance to grace ; infirmities in the 
believer are sins, 482. The delusion of sin ; abstaining from sin distinguished 
from the mortification of it, 483. The painfulness of sin a merciful provision ; 
must be removed to effect a cure ; indwelling sin neutralised, but not destroyed, 
484. The madness of sin, 485. 

II. Admonition, and our Duty in respect to it. — His sinful nature lamented by the 
penitent, 464. Should be resisted at the beginning, 470. The true test of our 
sorrow for it, 471. Should not delay confessing it, 472. Sorrow must be pro- 
portional with it, 475. Must watch against the occasion of it, 476. Should 



CONTENTS- 



xxxi 



take warning from its consequences, 480. All sin must be confessed ; presump- 
tuous sin must be accounted for, 482. 

Societies. — The exposure of an obstacle in the way of their support, 485. The 
personal danger of many who support them ; ibid. 486. The strength of Chris- 
tian missions ; compared to light-houses, 487. 

Soul. — An argument for its immortality, 488 ; and future glory, 493. Starved in 
the midst of plenty; compared to an egg, 490. The case of the soul when 
inhabited by, or destitute of the Holy Spirit, 491. Its state and condition 
illustrated by the seasons •, has been brought into trouble by sin ; the loathsome- 
ness of the polluted soul, 492. 

Sacrament op the Supper. — It ratifies to us our inheritance ; communicates 
gifts to those who partake of it ; compared with the legal offerings ; the receipt 
of pardon put into our hands, 494. The wilful neglect of it a rejection of 
Christ ; ibid. 495. Its various excellencies as apprehended by faith, 49G 
Physic for the soul ; its mysterious operation in the soul ; compared to title 
deeds, 497. The elements at the sacraments not to be regarded as common 
elements ; ibid. 498. It presents a living picture of Christ ; its blessings con- 
nected with our own endeavours ; brings to our presence absent things, 499. A 
feast upon a sacrifice ; the scandal that attends the abuse of it, 500. 

Temptations. — Must avoid them, 501, 502. Exposes our inward corruptions; 
self-deception in respect to them, 501. Idleness exposes us to them; the 
advantage Satan takes of them, 502. 

Thoughts. — The misery of vain thoughts, — and the benefits of holy ones ; occa- 
sional and frequent spiritual thoughts contrasted, 503 ; ibid. 504. How Satan 
knows our thoughts ; the influence of regeneration over them, 504. 

Truth. — Should universally be spoken ; the objects of faith are verities ; ibid. 
506. 

Time. — An accepted time for all ; what is lost of it can never be recovered, 506. 

Compared with eternity, 507. What is the true redemption of time, 508. 
Trinity. — Shown in a similitude, 508 ; ibid. 509. 

Union. — That of Christians described ; no association can prosper without it, 509. 
The paramount duty of Christians, 510. The force of union, 511, 512. An 
apparent and a real union distingviished ; how it is best promoted ; ibid. 512. 

Vows. — The danger of neglecting them ; the vows of sickness forgotten ; the 
vows made for us in baptism, binding ; the ruin of broken vows to God, 513. 

Watchfulness. — In what it consists ; its certain benefits, 514. Our spirituality 
dependent on it, — and our wisdom in observing it, 515. Its necessity ; ibid. ; 
ibid. ; ibid. ; not always watchful, 516. 

Warfare. — Must take courage in it, 517. The achievements of heathens ; must 
put on the whole armour of God, 518. The warfare of the flesh and the spirit, 
519. A description of it, 520. A hinderance in running our race ; the evidence 
it affords of our spiritual state, 51 9. Must avoid temptation in it ; some benefit 
derived from it, 520. 

World. — Why worldly things so important in our eyes, 520. The evil of too 
much intercourse with it ; made by God, and inhabited by his Spirit, 521. 
Certain disappointment from it, 522. Must avoid its dangers ; the folly of 
expending all our time on it ; the evil when the soul is saturated with it, 523. 
Its condemnation of the godly ; must watch to be preserved from its wiles, 
524. Must separate from it, 525, 526. Compared to the ocean ; the subtle 



XXX11 



CONTENTS. 



progress of a worldly spirit, 526. The conduct of the world like that ot 
children ; must seek retirement from it ; compared to a grave-yard ; more 
affected by worldly than spiritual losses, 527. Its trifles preferred before 
spiritual blessings ; the perplexities and unsatisfactoriness of its delights, 528. 
Its pleasures prove to be sorrows, 529. 
Youth. — The importance of serving God in youth, 529, 531. Portraiture of a 
young man, 530. 

Zeal. — Party-spirited, not the spirit of the gospel ; a zeal without knowledge, 
532. Draws down persecution ; true and false zeal compared ; a Christian 
zeal, 532. 



LIBER SIMILITUDTNUM. 



No wonder that our estates and conditions are so variable, 
like the face of the heavens or the sea ; or like weather 
which is now fair, and presently again foul ; or like the 
hard winter, which, for one fair sunshine day, hath often- 
times ten foul. God sees that it is very good for us ; for, as 
seeds that are deepest covered with snow in winter flourish 
most in spring ; or as the wind by beating down the flame 
raiseth it higher and hotter ; and as when we would have 
fires flame the more we sprinkle water upon them ; even so, 
when the Lord would increase our joy and thankfulness, he 
allays it with the tears of affliction. Misery sweeteneth 
joy ; yea, the sorrows of this life shall (like a dark veil) give 
a lustre to the glory of the next : then the Lord shall turn 
this water of our earthly afflictions into that wine of glad- 
ness wherewith our souls shall be satiate for ever. 

If we were convinced more of the depravity of our hearts, 
we should be more resigned to chastisement. Affliction's 
rods are made of many keen twigs, but they are all cut 
from the tree of life. It is great mercy to have a bitter 
put into that draught which Satan has sweetened as a vehicle 
for his poison. 

I think it worth preserving, that the outpouring of God's 
Spirit was uncommonly great during the whole time of the 
plague. Such spiritual consolations, and such communion 
with God, were seldom experienced, as were felt and enjoyed 

B 



2 



AFFLICTIONS. 



by the Lord's people, from the commencement to the cessa- 
tion of that tremendous visitation. So that the time of de- 
struction was, in another respect, a time of peculiar and 
most transcendent refreshing to the church of Christ. 

We do not feel the solar heat during winter ; though, in 
reality, we are less remote from the great material source of 
light and warmth, than at those times when its influence is 
more sensibly enjoyed. The believer, too, has his winter 
seasons of providential affliction, and of spiritual distress. 
At such periods, his views are occasionally dark, and his 
comforts liable to a temporary chill. Yet, if the God 
of love is ever peculiarly near to his people for good, it 
is when " his arrows stick fast in them, and when his 
hand presseth them sore." Behold, " God is in this 
place, and I knew it not ;" was the retrospective ex- 
perience of Jacob. While the spiritual winter lasts, be 
it thy endeavour to exercise, what a late excellent person 
terms, " The winter graces of faith and patience." " At the 
time appointed, thy consolations shall return, as the clear 
shining after rain ; and thy joy be as the sun, when it goeth 
forth in its might." 

If you thoroughly exhaust a vessel of the air it contains, 
the pressure of the air on the outside will break that vessel 
into (perhaps) millions of pieces ; because there is not a suffi- 
ciency of air within to resist and counteract the weight of 
the atmosphere from without. A person who is exercised 
by severe affliction, and who does not experience the divine 
comforts and supports in his soul, resembles the exhausted 
receiver above described ; and it is no wonder if he yields, 
and is broken to shivers, under the weight of God's provi- 
dential hand. But, affliction to one who is sustained by the 
Holy Ghost, resembles the aerial pressure on the outer sur- 
face of an unexhausted vessel. There is that within which 
supports it, and which preserves it from being destroyed 
by the incumbent pressure from without. 

In a long sunshine of outward prosperity, the dust of our 
inward corruptions is apt to fly about, and lift itself up. 
Sanctified affliction, like seasonable rain, lays the dust, and 
softens the soul, and keeps us from carrying our heads too 
high. 



AFFLICTIONS. 



3 



The earth must be ploughed, and sown, and harrowed, and 
weeded, and endure many frosty nights, and scorching days, 
in order to its being made and preserved fruitful. Gentle 
showers, soft dews, and moderate sunshine, will not suffice 
always. So it is with the soul of a fruitful Christian. 

It is known that a full wind behind the ship drives her 
not so fast forward as a side-wind, that seems almost as 
much against her as with her ; and the reason, they say, is 
because a full wind fills but some of her sails, which keeps it 
from the rest, that they are empty ; when a side-wind fills 
all her sails, and sets her speedily forward. Whichever 
way we go in this world, our affections are our sails, and ac- 
cording as they are spread and filled so we pass on swifter 
or slower, whither we are steering. Now, if the Lord 
should give us a full wind, and continued gales of mercies, 
it would fill but some of our sails — some of our affec- 
tions — joy, delight, and the like. But when he comes with 
a side-wind, a dispensation that seems almost as much 
against us as for us, then he fills all our sails, takes up all 
our affections, making his works wide and broad enough to 
entertain them every one ; then we are carried fully and 
freely towards the haven where we would be. 

All afflictions in their own nature are a part of the curse : 
they work naturally against our good ; but when once they 
are taken into the covenant, their nature and property is 
altered. As waters in their subterranean passages, meeting 
some virtuous mineral in their course, are thereby impreg- 
nated and endowed with a rare healing property to the 
body; so afflictions passing through the covenant, receive 
from it a healing virtue to our souls. They are in them- 
selves sour and harsh as wild hedge-fruits ; but being en- 
grafted into this stock, they yield the pleasant fruits of 
righteousness. 

Devotion, like fire in frosty weather, burns hottest in 
affliction. With the ark of Noah, the higher we are tossed 
with its flood, the nearer we mount towards heaven. When 
the waters of the flood came upon the face of the earth, down 
went stately turrets and towers ; but as the waters rose, the 
ark rose still higher and higher. In like sort, when the 

b 2 



4 



AFFLICTIONS. 



waters of affliction arise, down go the pride of life, the 
lust of the eyes, and the vanities of the world. But the ark 
of the soul ariseth, as these waters arise, and that higher 
and higher, even nearer and nearer towards heaven. 0 
admirable use of affliction ! health from a wound ; cure from 
a disease ! out of grief, joy ; gain out of loss ; out of infir- 
mity, strength ; out of sin, holiness ; out of death, life. — 
The Portfolio. 

There is as much difference between the sufferings of the 
saints and those of the ungodly, as there is between the 
cords with which an executioner pinions a condemned male- 
factor, and the bandages wherewith a tender surgeon binds 
his patient. The effect of the one is to kill, of the other to 
cure. Believers undergo many crosses, but no curses. 

Ah, how sweet are sufferings for Christ ! God forgive 
them that raise an ill report on the sweet cross of Christ. 
Our weak and dim eyes look only to the black side of the 
cross, and this occasions our mistakes concerning it. They 
that can take it cheerfully on their backs, shall find it just 
such a burden as wings to a bird, or sails to a ship. 

When the grace of an afflicted saint is in exercise, his 
heart is like a garden of roses, or a well of rose-water, 
which the more moved and agitated they are, the sweeter is 
the fragrance they exhale. 

Afflictions scour us of our rust. Adversity, like winter 
weather, is of use to kill those vermin which the summer of 
prosperity is apt to produce and nourish. 

Every vessel of mercy must be scoured in order to bright- 
ness. And, however trees in the wilderness may^ grow 
without culture, trees in the garden must be pruned to be 
made fruitful ; and corn-fields must be broken up, when bar- 
ren heaths are left untouched. 

The church below is often in a suffering state. Christ 
himself was a man of sorrows ; nor should his bride be a 
wife of pleasures. 

All the afflictions that a saint is exercised with, are neither 
too numerous nor too sharp — not one stroke falls more than 
needful. 

A great deal of rust requires a rough file. When physic 



AFFLICTIONS. 



5 



works not kindly, it doth not only leave the disease uncured, 
but the poison of the physic stays in the body also. Many 
appear thus poisoned by their afflictions ; by the breaking out 
of their lusts afterwards, they prove to be worse than before. 

To the wicked, the issue is sad in regard of sins ; they 
leave them worse, more impenitent, hardened, and out- 
rageous in their wicked practices. Every plague on Egypt 
added to the plague of hardness on Pharaoh's heart. He 
that for some time could beg prayers of Moses for himself, 
at last comes to that pass, that he threatens to kill him if he 
comes to him any more. O to what a prodigious height 
we see many come to in sin, after some great sickness or 
other j udgment ! Children do not more shoot up in their 
bodily stature after an ague, than they in their lusts after 
afflictions. O how greedy and ravenous are they after 
their prey, when they once get off their clog and chain from 
their heels ! — Spencer. 

In affliction, the believer sees that there is more unbelief 
in his heart than he before suspected. Sharp afflictions are 
to the soul as a driving rain to a house : we know not that 
there are such crannies and holes in the house till we see it 
drop down here and there. Thus we perceive not how un- 
modified that corruption, how weak this grace is, till we are 
searched, and made more fully to know what is in our hearts 
by such trials. This teaches them to carry a low sail with 
respect to their own graces, and a tender respect to their 
brethren, more ready to pity than censure them in their 
weaknesses. 

O comfort one another, Christians, with these words ; 
though your life be evil with troubles, yet 'tis short ; a few 
steps, and you are out of the rain. There is a great differ- 
ence between the saint, in the evil he meets with, and the 
wicked, as between two travellers riding contrary ways, 
(both taken in the rain and wet,) but one rides from the rain, 
and so is soon out of the shower ; but the other rides into 
the rainy corner, the further he goes the worse it is. The 
saint meets with troubles as well as the wicked, but he is 
soon out of the shower ; when death comes, he has fair 
weather ; but the wicked, the further he goes the worse ; 



6 



AFFLICTIONS. 



what he meets with here is but a few drops, the great storm 
is the last ! The pouring out of God's wrath shall be in 
hell, where all the deeps of horror are opened, both from 
above of God's righteous fury, and from beneath of their 
own accusing and tormenting conscience. 

The complaint was grievous, / looked for some to comfort 
me, but there was none. It is some kind of ease to sorrow, 
to have partners ; as a burden is lightened by many shoul- 
ders ; or as clouds, scattered into many drops, easily vent 
their moisture into air. Yea, the very presence of friends 
abates grief. The peril that arises to the heart from passion, 
is the fixedness of it, when, like a corrosive plaster, it eats 
into the sore. Some kind of remedy it is, that it may 
breathe out in good society. 

Afflictions are God's most effectual means to keep us 
from losing our way to our heavenly rest. Without this 
hedge of thorns, on the right hand and left, we should 
hardly keep the way to heaven. If there be but one gap 
open, how ready are we to find it, and turn out at it ! When 
we grow wanton, or worldly, or proud, how doth sickness or 
other afflictions reduce us ! Every Christian, as well as 
Luther, may call affliction one of his best schoolmasters ; 
and with David may say, " Before I was afflicted I went 
astray, but now I have kept thy word." Many thousand 
recovered sinners may cry, " O healthful sickness ! O com- 
fortable sorrows ! O gainful losses ! O enriching poverty ! 
O blessed day that ever I was afflicted !" Not only the 
green pastures and still waters, but the rod and staff they 
comfort us. Though the word and Spirit do the main work, 
yet suffering so unbolts the door of the heart, that the word 
hath easier entrance. — Spencer. 

God takes thee out of the shop to show thee the way to 
the closet ; he knocks thee off thy worldly trade that thou 
may est follow thy heavenly more closely. The last thing a 
backslider can look for is, a storm from God, to bring back 
thee, his runaway servant, to thy work again, and the sooner 
it comes the more merciful he is. — Ibid. 

Great crosses (says Rutherford) are good physic for great 
stomachs. Our Lord bloweth off the bloom from our hopes 



AFFLICTIONS. 



? 



in this life, and loppeth the branches of our worldly joys 
well nigh the root, on purpose that they should not thrive. 
Lord, spoil my fool's heaven in this life, that I may be saved 
for ever. Our afflictions will serve to carry us to heaven's 
gate, but they will not enter there and follow us. 

Under trials we act the part of children, and suffer our- 
selves to be governed by sense, and not by reason. Take a sick 
child, it is in vain to reason with him. He shuns the bit- 
terness of the draught ; he will not suffer you to touch the 
sore place, though you assure him it is the only means by 
which he can be restored to health. No matter, the 
child is under the dominion of sense, not of reason, and he 
is, therefore, wholly governed by the feelings of his senses. 
So, when cast into the furnace, and under the hands of our 
gracious Refiner, we are no longer men, but children. It 
is the flesh which now dictates, and not the spirit. What 
cares the flesh for argument or reason 1 it will not assuage 
its pain, or take away its suffering. It would turn away 
from the cup, however medicinal, and from the hand of him 
who would heal us. 

God will bear a tender respect to us in all troubles ; as a 
father loves his child, as well when sick as well ; nay, he is 
then more affectionately tender to him; the father then 
sets the whole house to work for his recovery, some going 
for a physician, others for friends, others tending him ; 
so when souls are sick, God sets Christians to pray for them, 
and preachers to comfort them. Yea, suppose thou hast 
broken some resolutions, and been overtaken, yet what 
father would take the forfeiture of a bond of his son, espe- 
cially when he forfeits it against his will? much less will 
God, who is infinitely more a father to his children. — Spencer. 

" I remember," says Mr. Whitfield, " some years ago, 
when I was at Shields, I went into a glass-house, and 
standing very attentive, I saw several masses of burning- 
glass of various forms. The workman took a piece of glass 
and put it into one furnace, then he put it into a second, 
and then into a third. I said to him, ' Why do you put 
this through so many fires V He answered, ' O sir, the 
first was not hot enough, nor the second, therefore we put 



8 



AFFLICTIONS. 



it into a third, and that will make it transparent.' " 
This furnished Mr. W. with a useful hint — that we must 
be tried, and exercised with many fires, until our dross 
be purged away, and we are made fit for the owner's use. 

Affliction is God's touchstone ; a furnace of trial ; a 
winnowing frame, that blows away the chaff from the good 
corn; the strait gate and narrow way that leads to hea- 
ven ; disguised gifts and secret riches ; the Christian's seed 
time, and wisdom's opportunities ; seeming losses, but real 
benefits ; Joseph's pit, and a prison, more safe than his 
mistress's house ; Job's dunghill, and Daniel's den, wherein 
lions gape, but cannot bite ; God's condescension and his 
work of love, 'who is doing for us what ourselves ought to 
do. We ought to have laid aside ourselves, our vanities, 
and the pomps of the world, but God doth it for us. In the 
deepest calamity enjoy what is left, and you shall never 
complain. — Spencer. 

It is recorded, that when on a time the city of Con- 
stantinople was shaken with a terrible earthquake, many 
houses were overthrown, and with the fall many people 
perished ; the whole city is hereupon so amazed, and every 
one so remembered to think on God, that they fall to 
their public devotions ; the churches were thronged with 
people ; all men for a while were much amended ; justice 
commutative and distributive both advanced ; the poor re- 
lieved ; justice exalted ; laws executed ; no fraud in bar- 
gaining ; it was become a very holy place ; but when wrath 
ceased their religion ceased also. And was it not alike 
in the civil wars of France? after the putting forth of 
that act or edict, January 1561, and in the second and 
third years of those wars, such as were of the religion 
then groaning under the heavy cross of poverty, oppression, 
and war, how devout were they towards God ! very careful 
in their ways ! glad to hear any preach the word, and glad 
to receive the sacrament any way ; but when the third 
peace was concluded, which seemed a very sound peace, and 
the rod was now thought to be removed afar off; such 
carelessness and security overgrew the hearts of all, and in 
the Protestants there was so cold a zeal, that within less 



AFFLICTIONS. 



9 



than two years, a sermon plainly made with good grounds 
of divinity, was not thought to be worth the hearing, un- 
less it were spiced with eloquence, or flourished over with 
courtly expressions. The case is ours ; witness that Marian 
persecution, when so many of the dear children of God 
mounted like Elias to heaven in fiery chariots ; what 
prayers were made within the land and without ! and what 
coldness benumbed some hot ones of that time not long- 
after ! Call to mind that miraculous year of 1588. How 
did the piety of our land exceed at that time ! Young 
and old then came together into the courts of the Lord ; 
sabbaths were then sanctified, week-days well spent. 
How did the people flock to church ! It might have been 
written in golden letters over every church-door in the 
land, " One heart, one way ;" such was the unity, such 
was the uniformity, of their devotions at that time ; but with 
the cold of the winter, their devotion grew cold too ; 
and many months had not passed, but as in few things 
some were the better, so in many things a great deal worse. 
To come yet downwards, anno 1625, to omit others. The 
chief city of our kingdom being struck with the plague 
of pestilence, seemed no more than a dreadful dungeon to 
her own, a very Golgotha to others ; what then ? The king 
commands a Nineveh-like humiliation ; with what eager- 
ness were those fasts devoured. What loud cries did becit 
on all sides of the gates of heaven ! and with what unex- 
pectable, inconceivable mercies were they answered ? Sud- 
denly those many thousands were brought down to one 
poor unit, not a number ; then was all the fasting and 
mourning turned into joy and laughter : and as Bishop 
Hall observed in a sermon at court, " To come yet lower, 
to this very year, this very day ; how hath the sword de- 
voured ! and whilst it did so, how did the people unite and 
associate ! but when it seemed to be but a little sheathed, 
what remissness, what divisions were found amongst us !" 
It is so, and it is not well that it is so. It is a reproach 
to some, no plague, no paternoster, no punishment, no 
prayer." — Ibid. 

Our hours of misery become such, because we feel them 



10 



AFFLICTIONS. 



singly, and apart from the rest of life. But we know not 
what those shades will be, when the whole, with its reliefs 
and lights, is seen together. The minute insect which 
moves upon the face of a pictured landscape, as upon a 
wide and boundless plain, may feel itself at times buried in 
the deepest gloom of midnight; while the eye that takes 
it all at once, sees in those dark lines the contrast which 
gives effect and brilliancy to the general design. In like 
manner, the most grateful and exhilarating draught, if 
analyzed, will be often found to contain materials which 
taken singly are bitter and revolting to the taste. Never- 
theless, these are, perhaps, the ingredients which give the 
highest zest and flavour to the compound. Thus it may be 
when our whole past experience becomes present to us at 
once. It is true, that our saddest days and darkest dis- 
pensations will re-appear ; but they will not meet us, as 
they did upon the road of life, unmingled and unrelieved. 
Every danger will be accompanied by its deliverance ; 
every perplexity by its extrication ; every night of heavi- 
ness by the joy that ushered in the morning. And thus 
the path of life, when life is gathered into one united whole, 
will, like the discords in music, only serve to render the 
harmony more perfect and more enchanting. — Woodward. 

A physician or surgeon, when he meeteth with a sore 
festered, or full of dead flesh, he applieth some sharp corro- 
sive to eat out the dead flesh, that would otherwise spoil the 
cure, which being done, the patient, it may be, impatient of 
anguish and pain, cries out to have it removed ; no, says the 
surgeon, it must stay there till it has eaten to the quick, and 
effects that thoroughly for which it is applied, commanding 
those that are about him to see that nothing be stirred till 
he come again to him ; in the mean time, the patient being 
much pained, counts every minute an hour till the surgeon 
come back again, and if he stay long, thinketh that he hath 
forgotten him, or that he is taken up with other patients, 
and will not return in any reasonable time ; thus in the self- 
same manner doth God deal ofttimes with his dearest chil- 
dren, as David and St. Paul. The one was determined 
more than once or twice to be rid of that soil ; and the other 



AFFLICTIONS. 



1 I 



cries out as fast, " Take away the plague from me, for I am 
even consumed," &c. ; but God makes both of them stay 
his time. He saw in them, as in others, much dead flesh, 
much corrupt matter behind, that was yet to be eaten out of 
their souls; he will have the cross to have its full work upon 
us, not to come out of the fire as we went in, nor to come 
off the fire as foul and full of scum, as we were when first set 
on. — Sfencer. 

A ship after a long voyage, being come into harbour, 
springs a leak, the master is somewhat troubled at it, and is 
never quiet till it be stopped, so that it is an evil to him ; 
yet he comforts himself in this, that it did not happen unto 
him when he was out at sea ; that had been a great deal 
worse, and might have proved the ruin of them all ; and 
thus it is for troubles and sorrows, there is a comfortable use 
to be made of them, so long as they happen to us in this 
world, so that, by a sanctified use to be made of them, they 
shall never be actually upon us in the world to come. 
Hence is that prayer of St. Augustin, and of all good men, 
in his words, " Here, Lord, do what thou wilt with me, but 
spare me hereafter ; whatsoever my grievances are here upon 
earth, let me rejoice with thee in heaven." — Ibid. 

As snow is of itself cold, yet warms and refreshes the earth, 
so afflictions, though in themselves grievous, yet keep the 
soul of the Christian warm and make it fruitful. Let the 
most afflicted know and remember, that it is better to be 
preserved in brine than to rot in honey. 

A gentleman hath a hawk which he prizeth highly, he 
feeds her with his own hand, is very careful in the pluming 
of her feathers, sets her upon his fist, and taketh great delight 
in the sight of her ; but for all this he puts vervells upon her 
legs, and a dark hood upon her head ; why is she hood- 
winked ? why fettered ? lest she would fly away ; he would 
not by any means have her out of call, but that she might 
be always within the lure. Thus God deals with his chil- 
dren ; there cannot be a more evident sign of his love than 
when he chastiseth them, nor a greater evidence of his hatred 
and rejection, than when he gives them over to do what 
they wish, to go on and prosper in all worldly and licentious 



12 



AFFLICTIONS. 



courses: when he lets men neglect all duties without con- 
trolment, he makes it manifest, that his purpose is to turn 
them out of service, and when he lets them feed at will in 
the pleasant pastures of sin, it is more than probable that he 
hath destinated them to the slaughter. — Spencer. 

The naturalists observe well, that the north wind is more 
healthful, though the south be more pleasant ; the south 
wind is warm, the north wind is cold ; thus adversity is un- 
pleasant, but it keepeth us w r atchful against sin, and careful 
to do our duties ; whereas prosperity doth flatteringly lull 
us to sleep : it never goes worse with men spiritually, than 
when they find themselves corporeally best at ease. Hezekiah 
was better upon his sick bed than w hen he was showing off 
his treasures to the ambassadors of the king of Babylon. 
How wicked the Sodomites were, we read Gen. xviii., 
but Ezekiel, chapter xvi., tells us the cause was " fulness of 
bread." It was a wise policy then of Epaminondas, to stand 
sentinel himself, when the citizens were at their bacchanals ; 
and surely when we have the world at will, it is a good pro- 
vidence then to look most to our ways. — Ibid. 

Plutarch, in his book of conjugal precepts, maketh use of 
that known parable, how the sun and the wind were at 
variance, which of them should make a man put aside the 
cloak which he had upon his back ; while the wind blew he 
held it the harder, but the sun with the strength of his beams 
made him throw it away from him. Ice, we know, that 
hangeth from the eves of the house in frosty weather, is able 
to endure the stormy blasts of the sharpest north wind ; but 
when the sun breaks out, it melts and falls away. Thusdt is 
that adversity and necessity are rather preservative of piety 
than plenty and prosperity ; this melts them into vanity, 
causes them to throw aside the garments of righteousness, 
the armour of God in which they trusted. Affliction makes 
them buckle it closer, and pursue their march to glory. — 
Ibid. 

A man taking his journey into a far country, and inquir- 
ing for the way, is told, that there are many plain ways, 
but the straight and right way is by woods, and hills, and 
mountains, and great dangers ; that there are many marshes 



AFFLICTIONS. 



13 



in the way, much difficulty is upon the road thither. Now 
when he is travelling", and finds such and such things in the 
way, such mountains and hills of opposition, such flats and 
valleys of danger, he concludeth that he is in the right way 
thither. And so the child of God, that is going to the king- 
dom of heaven, though there be many ways to walk in, yet 
he knows that there is but one right way, which is very 
strait and narrow, full of trouble, full of sorrow and per- 
secution, full of all manner of crosses and afflictions ; and 
when in this life he is persecuted for God and a good cause, 
whether in body or in mind, it argueth plainly that he is in 
the right way to salvation, — Ibid. 

The bee is observed to suck out honey from the thyme, a 
most hard dry shrub : so the good and faithful-minded man 
sucketh knowledge and obedience from the bitter portion of 
adversity and the cross, and turneth all to the best; the 
scouring and rubbing which frets others, makes him shine 
the brighter ; the weight which crushes others, makes him, 
like the palm-tree, grow the better ; the hammer which 
knocks all in pieces, makes him the broader and the longer ; 
they are made broader on the anvil, and with the hammer, 
although it be with the hammer, yet they are made to 
spread the wider. — Ibid. 

Spring water spouts, when all other waters of the river 
and the channel are frozen up, that water is living whilst 
they are dead ; all experience teacheth us, that well- 
water arising from deep springs is better in winter than in 
summer : such is a true Christian in the evil day ; this life 
of grace gets more vigour by opposition ; he had not been 
so gracious, if the time had been better. I will not say he 
may thank his enemies, but I must say he may thank God 
for his enemies. 

Stars shine brightest in the darkest night ; torches are better 
for the beating ; grapes do not come to the proof till they 
come to the press ; spices smell sweetest when pounded ; 
young trees root the faster for shaking ; vines are the better 
for bleeding ; gold looks the brighter for scouring ; glow- 
worms glisten best in the dark ; juniper smells sweetest in 



14 



AFFLICTIONS. 



the fire ; the palm-tree proves the better for pressing ; chamo- 
mile, the more you tread it, the more you spread it. Such is 
the condition of all God's children, they are then most tri- 
umphant when most trampled ; most glorious when most 
afflicted ; often most in the favour of God when least in 
man's ; as their conflicts, so their conquests ; as their tribu- 
lations, so their triumphs ; they live best in the furnace of 
persecution : so that heavy afflictions are the best benefactors 
to heavenly blessings, and when afflictions hang heaviest, 
corruptions hang loosest ; and grace that is hid in nature, as 
sweet water in rose leaves, is then most fragrant when the 
fire of affliction is put under to distil it out. — Spencer. 

Passengers that have been told that their way to such a 
place lies over a steep hill, or down a craggy rock, or through 
a moorish fen, or a dirty well, if they suddenly fall into some 
pleasant meadow, enamelled with beautiful flowers, or a 
goodly corn-field, or a fair country, look about them, and 
bethinking themselves where they are, say, Surely we are 
come out of the way, we see no hills, nor rocks, nor moors, 
nor fens, this is too good to be the right way : so in the course 
of life, which is but a pilgrimage on earth, when we pass 
through fields of corn, or gardens of flowers, and enjoy all 
worldly pleasures and contentments ; when the wind sits in 
such a corner as blows riches, honours, and preferments 
upon us, let us then cast with ourselves, Surely this is not 
the way the Scripture directeth us unto, here are not the 
tribulations that we must pass through; we see little or no 
footing of the saints of God in this road, but only the print 
of Dives' feet ; somewhere we missed our way, let us search 
and find where we went out of it. It is very true that 
God hath the blessings of this life, and that which is to 
come, in store for his children, where he seeth it good for 
them, they may go to heaven this way, but certainly afflic- 
tions and trouble are surer arguments of God's love, and a 
readier way to heaven than the other. — Ibid. 

It is said of Hagar, that when her bottle of water was 
spent, she sat down and fell a weeping, as if she had been 
utterly undone ; her provision and her patience, her bottle and 



AFFLICTIONS. 



L5 



her hope, were both out together. O ! what must she do ? 
What ? Why, there was upon the very place, and that near 
at hand, comfort enough ; a well of water to refresh her, had 
she but had her eyes open to have seen it. Gen. xxi. 19. 
Thus it is, that in the midst of afflictions and distress men 
repine as if they were quite left ; they eye the empty bottle, 
the cross that is at present upon them, but, for want of spiri- 
tual sight, they see not the fountain of living waters, Christ 
Jesus, with the open arms of his mercy, ready to relieve 
them ; they, as it were, groan under the heavy burden of 
oppression, but for want of coming to Christ, and believing 
on him, they miss of speedy refreshing which otherwise they 
might happily enjoy. — Ibid. 

A man when he would drink of the water of the river, he 
drinketh not of it near the sea where it is brackish, but he goes 
up to the fountain where it is sweet and agreeable. And thus, 
if we will find comfort in our afflictions, we must learn 
to take them out of God's hand, to pass by the instruments, 
and look up to the great Agent ; for in the second cause we 
shall find much malice and hatred, but in God much mercy 
and goodness ; and thus did Job when the Chaldeans robbed 
him; thus David when Shimei cursed him; thus Joseph 
when his brethren maligned him ; and thus that kingly 
picture of patience, Car, K. I. when he was worried to death 
by his own enraged people. — Ibid. 

He that goeth towards the sun shall have his shadow 
follow him ; but he that runneth from it shall have it fly 
before him : so he that marcheth with his face towards the 
Sun of Righteousness, that setteth himself to do the things 
that may be without offence to God and man, shall be sure to 
have his afflictions close at his heels ; as for him that hath his 
back upon Christ, that maketh a trade of sin, his sorrow and 
vexation of spirit, like the shadow, may be still before him in 
this world, but they will be sure to meet him in another 
— Ibid. 

A believer welcomes afflictions if his father bids, though 
a frowning friend, just as we welcome clouds, though they 
are frequently with storms and rain, blackening the shining 



16 



AFFLICTIONS. 



prospect all around, shading the beauties of the opening- 
year, and shutting us up in our dwellings. Why ? Because 
we know the earth is enriched by their precious stores, and 
will yield a fruitful summer, and more plenteous crop. — 
Ibid. 

Happy the believer who, the more afflictions assail him, 
cleaves the more closely to the Lord. Like the traveller 
overtaken in a storm, who, when the rain beats upon him, 
or the snow drifts upon his person, or the mountain wind 
drives furiously against him, lays firmer hold of his cloak, 
and wraps it closely around him, he, amidst the storm of 
trouble, keeps faster hold of the man who is a hiding place 
from every wind, and a covert from every storm . 

Pliny records the manner of the Psylli (which are a kind 
of people of that constitution that no venom will hurt them) 
is, that if they suspect any child be none of their own, they 
put an adder upon it to sting it ; and if the flesh swell, they 
cast it away as a spurious issue ; but if it never so much as 
cry, nor be the worse for it, then they account it for their own, 
and make very much of it. This was their manner of trial. 
In like manner Almighty God tries his children by en- 
during crosses and afflictions ; he suffereth the old serpent to 
sting them ; and if they patiently endure them, and make 
good use of them, he ofFereth himself to them, as to his own 
children, and will make them heirs of his kingdom ; but if 
they fall a crying, and storming, and fretting, and can no 
way abide the pain, he accounteth them as bastards, and not 
sons. Heb. xii. 8.— Spencer. 

The stalk and the ear of corn fall upon the thrashing 
floor under one and the same flail, but the one is shattered 
in pieces, the other preserved ; from one and the same olive, 
and from one and the same press, is crushed out both oil and 
dregs, but the one is turned up for use, the other thrown 
out as unserviceable ; thus afflictions are incident to good and 
bad ; may, and do, befal both alike ; but by the providence of 
God, not upon the same account : good men are put into the 
furnace for their trial, bad men find their ruin ; the one is 
purified by affliction, the other made worse than before ; the 



AFFLICTIONS. 



17 



self-same affliction is a loadstone to the one, to draw him to 
heaven, as a millstone to the other, to sink him deeper into 
hell. — Spencer. 

Jacob, when he saw the angels ascending and descending, 
inquired who stood at the top of the ladder and sent them. 
David, though he knew the second cause of the famine that 
fell out in his army to be the drought, yet he inquired of the 
Lord what should be the cause of that judgment. And Job 
could discern God's arrows in Satan's hands, and God's hand 
in the arms of the Sabeans. So should we do in like case, 
see God in all our afflictions ; in the visible means see by 
faith the invisible author, and not look upon the malice of 
men, or rage of devils, as if either of them were unlimited ; 
not upon chance, as if that idol were anything in the world ; 
or as if things casual upon us, were not from appointment 
by God, even to the least circumstance, to the greatest or 
least affliction, to the falling of a hair of our heads.— Matt, 
x. 30.— Ibid. 

As a father will sometimes cross his son to try his child's 
disposition, to see how he will take it, whether he will mut- 
ter at it, and grow humorous and wayward, and neglect his 
duty -to his father, because his father seemeth to neglect 
him ; or offer to run away and withdraw himself from his 
father's obedience, because he seems to carry himself hardly 
and roughly to him, and to provoke him thereunto : in like 
manner doth God ofttimes cross his children, and seemeth to 
neglect them, to try their disposition, what metal they are 
made of, how they stand affected towards him, whether they 
will neglect him, because he seemeth to neglect them ; cease 
to depend upon him, because he seemeth not to look after 
them ; and say, with Joram's profane spirit, This evil is of 
God, and why should I depend upon him any longer 1 Or 
whether they will constantly cleave unto him, though he 
seem to cast them all off, and say with Isaiah, yet will I wait 
upon God, though he hide his face from me.-— Ibid. 



c 



18 



AFFECTIONS, 



affections*. 

The condition of men in this world is like the sea ? the 
theatre of inconstancy. Their affections are like the winds ; 
some are turbulent, others serene and cheerful ; some warm 
and comforting, others cold and sharp ; some placid and 
gentle, others stormy and furious; and 'tis as difficult to 
regulate the affections, as to order those discordant spirits 
in the air. Just as the heavens are serene and calm, and 
suddenly their aspect is defaced with storms ; so the soul, 
which was at peace, is at once violently disordered, and torn 
with tempestuous passions. Something of government is still 
preserved in the natural conscience, but in the affections in- 
subordination reigns ; the understanding is defaced by them, 
and men are enslaved under their tyranny, until he who 
rides in the whirlwind, and rules the storms in the heavens, 
brings them into captivity to Christ, and says, Let there be 
peace within! 

As the diseases of the body, though the disorder of nature, 
yet have certain causes, and a regular course, as in the 
change of an ague a shivering cold is attended with a fiery 
heat, and that with an overflowing perspiration ; in like 
manner the irregular passions are productive of one another. 
Love is the radical affection, and when it leads to a desired 
object, has always hatred in the rear, if disappointed and 
crossed in its desires ; so joy, in the fruition of a dear object, 
is attended with grief, that lies in ambush, and immediately 
seizes upon the soul when the object is withdrawn. And, 
as in the vibrations of a pendulum the motion is always as 
strong in proportion one way as it was the other ; so accord- 
ing to the excess of love will be the excess of grief. Of this 
we have an eminent instance in David, whose sorrow for the 
death of his rebellious son was as immoderate as his love, 
the cause of it. 

The affections and passions originally implanted in us by 
the Creator, however debased by sin, when regulated by the 
law of God, and free from other restraints, become the foun- 
dation of all the other relations of life, the source and 



AFFECTIONS. 



19 



spring of all energy and activity, equally beneficial to indi- 
viduals, families, and nations ; like a river which, gliding 
within the regular banks, beautifies and enriches the neigh- 
bouring plains. But when their regular course is not 
bounded by scriptural restraints, when they break the 
bounds appointed of God, they spread vice, discord, disease, 
and misery around with horrible rapidity : like the same 
river obstructed in its natural channel, overflowing its banks, 
inundating and desolating the fields, and converting the 
neighbouring country into a marsh, or fen, whose stagnating 
waters spread a stench and infection all around. 

There are some whose passage from a state of nature to 
a state of grace has been gentle and easy. They cannot 
understand the measureless extent of joy which is felt by 
the poor castaway rescued from depths of wretchedness to 
peace. There is something like intoxication of delight about 
the conversion of certain great offenders, which others, like 
the elder brother in the parable, are offended with ; they do 
not recognise it as belonging to their experience ; they call 
it enthusiasm, fanaticism ; " they are angry, they will not go 
in." Let them not doubt the reality of it. A man who 
comes from a dark chamber into the bright shining light of 
day, experiences a dazzling brilliancy in that which to 
another is mere ordinary sunshine. As with their joys, so 
it is with their groaning and sorrows. A soldier that has 
been scarred and wounded in the wars, shall find his wounds 
smart in old age, and bring on premature decrepitude. 
And the soul that has suffered in its spiritual contests with 
the devil, that has long lain in the captivity of the enemy, 
will long mourn the wounds and scars, and weaknesses, and 
deficiencies, that his more happy brethren will know 
nothing of. 

The difference between the carnal and the spiritual man 
is in the way that they regard God and the world. They 
are as opposite as two beings who occupy different hemi- 
spheres, and differ like an inhabitant of heaven and a mere 
denizen of this world. 

How many thousands exercise their affections and feelings 
without recognising God in them at all ! They much resemble 

c 2 



20 



AFFECTIONS. 



a person who, being put into possession of a fine garden, 
should experience no other gratification than that of devour- 
ing greedily the fruits, regardless of the magnitude of the 
gift, or the bounty of the giver. 

When we cast our eyes over those wide, unreclaimed re- 
gions of moral delusion, which an unknown God has for so 
many ages visited in the terrors of his power, and cherished 
in the relentings of his providence, how sad and appalling 
the aspect of the past ! What ruin do we behold in the 
noblest work of God! What waste of intellect, what per- 
version of energy, what pitiable depravity of affection, what 
unrelenting tyranny of error ! Like the despotic elements 
of nature broke loose from their office of ministering to the 
health and solace of mankind, the moral energies of man 
seem there to emulate the operations of the earthquake and 
the whirlwind, and to aim only at confounding order, and 
perpetuating wickedness. 

Christians, however exact and regular in the detail of 
duties, where the religious affections do not hold dominion, 
give an impression similar to that of leafless trees observed 
in winter, admirable for the distinct exhibition of their boughs 
so clearly defined, left destitute of all the soft, green, luxu- 
riant foliage which is requisite to make a perfect tree. The 
affections which exist in such minds seem to have a bleak 
abode, somewhat like those deserted nests which you often 
see in such trees. 

The fervour which ensues upon the apprehended love of 
God, prompting men to such services as are suitable to a 
state of devotedness to his interests, is, in some, more in- 
tense and durable ; in others, more flashy and inconstant. 
As, though flax set on fire will flame more than iron, yet 
withal it will smoke more, and will not glow so much, nor 
keep heat so long. 

A believer's affections are too often like a cascade or 
waterfall that flows downward ; instead of being like a foun- 
tain, which rises and shoots upwards toward heaven. 

They are of excellent use, when subordinate to the direc- 
tion of the renewed mind, and the empire of the sanctified 
will : when in rise, degrees, and continuance, they are 



AFFECTIONS. 



21 



ordered by the rule of true judgment What the winds are 
in nature, they are in man : if the air be always calm with- 
out agitation, it becomes unhealthful, and unuseful for 
maintaining commerce between the distant parts of the world. 
Moderate winds purify the air, and serve for navigation. 
And thus our voluble passions are of excellent use, and when 
sanctified, transport the soul to the divine world, to obtain 
felicity above. But when they are exorbitant and tempes- 
tuous, they cause fearful disorders in men, and are the 
causes of all the sins and miseries in the world. 

Dost thou ever raise thy little dam across the streamlet, 
and think to dry the bed below ? Hast thou accomplished 
thy work, and stood watching awhile thy success? Hast 
thou seen the water above deepen and widen, and gather 
strength, and at length, impatient of restraint, push through 
thy yielding barrier, and resume its accustomed course? 
But couldst thou have turned the stream into another chan- 
nel, thou hadst triumphed, and the former bed had been 
left dry. So thou hast attempted, perhaps, to confine thy 
sinful will by the barrier of good resolutions. Thou hast 
seemed for awhile to gain thy point, and sin was at a stand. 
Alas ! thou hast found that it but gained force by restraint ; 
ere awhile the inclination has burst through all thy well- 
formed resolves, and hath rushed more impetuously than ever 
to the forbidden object. No; the will and affections must be 
turned into another course— towards God and heaven, and 
things spiritual ; and then shall they cease to flow through 
the tempting vanities of this evil world. " No man 
could bind him, no, not with chains ; because that he 
had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the 
chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fet- 
ters broken in pieces : neither could any man tame him. — 
Mark v. 3, 4. But it has happened unto them according 
to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit 
again ; and the sow that was washed, to her wallowing in 
the mire.— -2 Pet. ii. 22. This I say, then, walk in the 
spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. — Gal. v. 
16. 

The lusts of the world are so strong and impetuous, that 



22 



AFFECTIONS. 



they are apt to inflame the desires, and even violently to 
carry away the heart, of a man. And for this cause likewise 
use it, as if you used it not ; engage yourselves as little upon 
it as you can : do as mariners in a mighty wind, hoist up a 
few sails ; expose as few of thy affections to the rage of 
worldly lusts as may be ; beware of being carried where two 
seas meet, as the ship wherein Paul suffered shipwreck ; I 
mean, of plunging thyself in a confluence of many boisterous 
and conflicting businesses, lest, for thine inordinate prosecu- 
tion of worldly things, the Lord either give thy soul over to 
suffer shipwreck in them, or strip thee of all thy lading 
and tackling ; break thine estate all to pieces ; and make 
thee glad to get to heaven upon a broken plank. 

Being with my friend in a garden, we gathered each of us 
a rose. He handled his tenderly ; smelt to it but seldom 
and sparingly. I always kept mine to my nose, or squeezed 
it in my hand, whereby, in a very short time, it lost its 
colour and sweetness : but his still remained as sweet and 
fragrant as if it had been growing upon its own root. These 
roses, said I, are the true emblems of the best and sweetest 
creature-enjoyments in the world, which, being cautiously 
and moderately used and enjoyed, may for a long time yield 
sweetness to the possessor of them ; but, if once too hard, 
they quickly wither in our hands, and we lose the comfort 
of them ; and that, either through the soul's surfeiting, or 
the Lord's righteous and just removal of them, because of 
the excess of our affections to them. It is a point of excel- 
lent wisdom, to keep the golden bridle of moderation upon all 
the affections we exercise on earthly things ; and never to let 
slip the reins of the affections unless they move towards 
God, in the love of whom there is no danger of excess. 

Let that rapid torrent of youthful strength and vivacity 
which, if left to itself, would only be wasted and dashed 
against rocks from precipice to precipice, be turned into a 
profitable course. Let this stream be brought into the chan- 
nel of devotion, and it will move the machine of the 
christian life, and be the source of innumerable blessings 
to man. 

He that feeds a lion must obey him, unless he make his den 



ANGER. 



23 



to be his prison. Our lusts are as wild and cruel beasts, and, 
unless they feel the load of fetters and of laws, will grow 
unruly and troublesome, and increase as we give them satis- 
faction. Unless the affections be mortified, they will not be 
stopped by purposes and easy desires. 

He that rideth a fierce horse, let the horse keep what 
pace he will, so long as the rider commands him by the 
bridle, we say he rides strongly ; but if the horse get the 
bit in his mouth and run away, the faster his pace, the 
weaker the rider, because he cannot check him : our 
affections are just like that fine horse, and our reason 
should be as strong a bridle, stir they never so much ; if 
reason commands, we are strong — but if reason have no 
power, and our passions are loose, then, certainly, the more 
violent they are, the more weak we are. — Spencer. 



Rash and sudden motions are never without sin ; some 
pettish spirits are like fine glasses, broken as soon as touched, 
and all on fire upon every slight and trifling occasion ; when 
meek and grave spirits are like flints that do not send out a 
spark, but after violent and great collision ; feeble minds 
have a habit of wrath, and like broken bones are apt to roar 
with the least touch ; it argues a very unsanctified spirit to 
be so soon moved. 

Let it be like the fire of thorns, quickly extinct. A spark 
or coal of fire, if it light on us, it will not burn us if it be 
presently shook off ; but if it lie still, it causeth burning. 

Anger is a young twig, but envy is a tree, and a great 
beam. 

Adrian the emperor gave the crier great thanks, who y 
when he was bidden to quiet the tumultuous people with an 
imperious " hold your tongues," he held out his hand only, 
and when the people listened with great silence to hear the 
cry, this is what he said, " The emperor requires of you, 
viz. to be silent ;" and this is the ready way to make all 



24 



ANGELS. 



quiet — a soft answer pacifies wrath. It was Abigail's gentle 
apology that disarmed David's fury ; and Gideon's mild and 
modest answer stilled the hot and hasty Ephraimites : lay 
hut a flint upon a pillow and you break it easily, but hard 
to hard will never do the deed. It is not the vieing one 
angry word with another ; grievous words stir up strife — 
harsh and angry words cast oil upon the flame ; set the pas- 
sions afloat, there is no hope, not one wise word to be ex- 
pected. — Spencer. 

It is reported of Titus Vespasian, that when any one 
spoke ill of him, he was wont to say, that he was above false 
reports ; and if they were true, he had more reason to be 
angry with himself than the relator. And the good Empe- 
ror Theodosius commanded no man should be punished that 
spake against him ; for what was spoken slightly, said he, 
was to be laughed at ; what spitefully, to be pardoned ; 
what angrily, to be pitied ; and if truly, he would thank him 
for it. O that there were not such a spirit, wherein men, 
like tinder, are ready to take fire upon the least spark that 
falls, to quarrel sometimes with the most inoffensive word 
that can be spoken ; whereas, the best way is to be silent, 
say nothing, and you pay a talking man to the purpose. 
Thus it was, that Hezekiah would not answer Rabshakeh, 
nor Jeremy, Hannanish, nor our blessed Saviour his railimg 
adversaries, Matt, xxvii. 39 ; he reviledjiot his revilers, he 
threatened not his opposers. — 1 Pet. ii. 23. — Ibid. 



Angels. 

In ecclesiastical history there is mention made of one 
Theodorus, a martyr, put to extreme torments by Julian the 
Apostate, and dismissed again by him when he saw him un- 
conquerable. Ruffinus, in his history, saith, that he .met 
with this martyr a long time after his trial, and asked him 
whether the pains he felt were not insufferable. He an- 
swered, that at first it was somewhat grievous, but after a 
while there seemed to stand by him a young man in white, 



ACTIVITY ACTIONS. 



25 



who, with a soft comfortable handkerchief, wiped off the 
sweat from his body, which through extreme anguish was 
little less than blood, and bade him be of good cheer ; inso- 
much as that it was rather a punishment than a pleasure to 
him to be taken off the rack, which when the tormentors 
had done, the angel was gone. Thus it is that the 
blessed angels of God have ministered from time to time to 
his people in the day of their distress, it may be bringing 
food to their bodies, as once to Elijah ; but certainly comfort 
unspeakable to their souls, as to Jacob, Hagar, Daniel, Zacha- 
rias, Joseph, Cornelius, Paul, See., and to our modern martyrs 
in their prisons, at the stake, and in the fire ; they pity our 
human frailties, and secretly suggest comfort, when we per- 
ceive it not ; they are as ready to help us as the bad angels 
are to tempt us ; they always stand looking on the face of 
God to receive orders, for the accomplishment of our good, 
which they no sooner have than they readily despatch even 
with weariness of flight. — Spencer. 



gcttbirs— Actions. 

A friend gives me a ring, I will wear it for his sake ; a book, 
I will use it for his sake ; a jewel, I will keep it for his sake; 
that is, so as may best express my love and report his good- 
ness; and were we truly thankful to our God, we would then 
use all his tokens for his sake, do all things to his glory ; we 
would eat our meals to him, wear our clothes to him, spend 
our strength for him, live to him, sleep to him, die for him, 
&c. Thus we should do ; but, alas ! we use his bless- 
ings as Jehu did Jekorarn's messengers, David Goliah's 
sword ; men turn them against their master, and fight 
against heaven with their health, wit, wealth, friends, means, 
and mercies, that they have from thence received. — Spencer. 

Ephorus, an ancient historian, and scholar to Isocrates, had 
no remarkable thing to write of his country, and yet was 
willing to insert the name of it in his history, and therefore 
brings it in with a cold parenthesis, Athens did this famous 



26 



ACTIVITY— ACTIONS. 



thing, and Sparta did that ; and at that time my country- 
man Cummins did nothing. God forbid that England and 
Englishmen should be so recorded in ecclesiastical history, 
as to have their names put in with a blank ; such a church 
did thus nobly, and such a people suffered thus pitifully, and 
at that time the men of England did just nothing. To be 
more particular, such a man did so much, and such a man 
gave so much for the glory of Christ, and succoured poor 
Christians, and at that time thou didst nothing, thou gavest 
nothing ; thou professest thyself to be a Christian, be an 
active Christian ; there be not only walls upon earth, but a 
book in heaven, wherein the names of Christian benefactors 
are written ; let it be thy care to find thy name there, other- 
wise it will be no more honour for thee to be put into the 
chronicle, than it was for Pontius Pilate to have his name 
mentioned in the creed. — Ibid. 

Whilst the stream keeps running, it keeps clear ; but if it 
come once to a standing water, then it breeds frogs and 
toads and all manner of filth. The keys that men keep in 
their pockets, to use every day, wax brighter and brighter ; 
but if they be laid aside and hang by the walls, they soon 
grow rusty : thus it is that action is the very life of the soul ; 
whilst we keep going and running in the ways of God's com- 
mandments, we keep clean and free from the world's pollu- 
tions ; but if we once flag in our diligence and stand still, 
0 what a puddle of sin will the heart be ! How rusty and 
useless will our graces grow ! How unserviceable for God's 
worship, how unfit for man's benefit, by reason of the many 
spiritual diseases that will invade the soul! Just like scholars 
that are for the most part given to a sedentary life, whose bodies 
are more exposed to ill humours than any others ; whereas, 
they whose livelihoods lie in a handicraft trade are always 
in motion and stirring, so that the motion expels the ill 
humours, that they cannot seize upon the body ; so in the 
soul, the less any man acts in the matter of its concernment^ 
the more spiritual diseases and infirmities will grow in it ; 
whereas, the more active and industrious men are, the less 
power will ill distempers have upon them. — Ibid. 

Luther was offered to be made a cardinal if he would be 



ACTIVITY ACTIONS. 



27 



quiet ; he answered, No, not if I might be pope ; and 
defends himself thus against those who thought him haply 
a proud fool for his pains : Let me be counted fool or any- 
thing, said he, so I be not found guilty of cowardly silence. 
The Papists, when they could not rule him, railed on him — 
called him an apostate ; he conxesseth the action, and saith : 
I am, indeed, an apostate, but a blessed and holy apostate, 
one that hath fallen off from the devil : then they called him 
devil, but what said he ? Luther is a devil, be it so ; but 
Christ liveth and reigneth, that's enough for Luther, so 
be it. Nay, such was the activity of Luther's spirit, that 
when Erasmus was asked by the elector of Saxony why the 
pope and his clergy could so little abide Luther, he 
answered, For two great offences, meddling with the pope's 
triple crown, and the monks' sensuality, and hence was all 
they hated him for. If he would have been quiet and silent, 
they never would have meddled with him or his profession. 
Thus it is, that a wolf flies not upon a painted sheep, and 
men can look upon a painted toad with delight ; it is not the 
lofty pace, but the furious march of the soldier that sets men 
a gazing and dogs a barking. Let but a man glide along 
with the stream of the world, do as others do, he may sit 
down and take his ease ; but if he once strive against 
the stream, stand up in the cause of God, and act for Christ, 
then he shall be sure to meet with as much despite and 
malice as men and devils can possibly throw upon him. — 
Ibid. 

Plutarch speaks of two men that were hired at Athens 
for some public works, whereof the one was full of tongue, 
but slow at hand ; and the other blank in speech, yet an excel- 
lent workman. Being called upon by the magistrates to ex- 
press themselves, and to declare at large how they would pro- 
ceed, when the first had made a large speech, and described it 
from point to point, the other seconded him in a few words, 
saying, Ye men of Athens, what this man hath said in 
words, that will I make gcod in true performance. And as 
he was adjudged the better artisan, so is the man of action 
the better Christian ; it is not the man of words, but the man 
of deeds ; not the barren, but the fruitful ; not the discours- 



28 



ACTIVITY— ACTIONS. 



ing, but the doing Christian that shall be blessed here in 
this world, and happy in that which is to come. — Ibid. 

When the inclination leads to a calling, a man applies 
himself continually to it; for the work produces delight, 
and the delight strongly inclines him to work : thus, accord- 
ing to the tendency of our corrupt natures is the constant 
practice of sin. We may as surely judge of the active pow- 
ers of the soul by the actions that proceed from them, as of 
the vigour of the sap in the root, by the number of the fruits 
of the tree. It is said of the scoffers, they walk after their 
own lusts ! 

Good intentions do no more make a good action, than a 
fair mark makes a good shot by an unskilful archer. God 
did not like Saul's zeal when he persecuted the Christian 
church, though he thought (no question) that he did him 
good service therein. 

Beautiful is the connexion between man's responsibility 
to labour in spiritual things, and the covenanted faithfulness 
of him who must give the increase. He who has the pro- 
mise that he shall bring home his sheaves with joy, is one 
who has first gone forth bearing precious seed with him. 
That God and man must unite together was strikingly illus- 
trated in the practice of the heathen. When they went to 
plough in the morning, they laid one hand on the plough to 
speak their own part to be painfulness, and held up the 
other hand to Ceres, the supposed goddess of corn, to show 
that their expectation of plenty was from their supposed 
deity. 

A man who is under the dominion of spiritual sloth is like 
one who has a journey to take, but who has fetters on his 
legs ; like a soldier who must stand up in the battle, but 
without armour or weapons of offence ; or like a mariner 
who sits inactive in his boat, and leaves it to the mercy of 
the waves. Do you imagine that all that is necessary for 
you to do is to step into the boat, and lie down and sleep, and 
leave it to pursue its own course? This is enough ifyou are to 
sail with the stream, and only to be stopped when you reach 
the gulf of perdition below. But if you are to sail against 
the stream, and avoM having your bark dashed upon some 



ADOPTION ASSURANCE. 



29 



neighbouring* rock, there must be watchfulness, and strength, 
and exertion. You will find all these necessary, or you will 
never reach the fountain of life. 



Sfooptton— assurance. 

Now sometimes the soul, because it hath somewhat re- 
maining in it of the principle that it had in its old condition, 
is put to the question, whether it be a child of God or not, 
and thereupon, as in a thing of the greatest importance, 
puts in its claim with all the evidences that it hath to make 
good its title. The Spirit comes and bears witness in this 
case. An allusion it is to judicial proceedings in point of 
titles and evidences. The judge being set, the person con- 
cerned lays his claim, produceth his evidences, and pleads 
them ; his adversaries endeavouring, all that in them lies, to 
invalidate them and disannul his plea, and to cast him in 
his claim. In the midst of the trial, a person of known and 
approved integrity comes into the court, and gives testimony 
fully and directly on behalf of the claimant, which stops 
the mouths of all his adversaries, and fills the man that 
pleaded with joy and satisfaction. So is it in this case. The 
soul, by the power of its own conscience, is brought before 
the law of God ; there a man puts in his plea, that he is a 
child of God, that he belongs to God's family, and for this 
end produces all his evidences, everything whereby faith 
gives him an interest in God. Satan in the mean time 
opposeth with all his might ; sin and law assist him ; many 
flaws are found in his evidences, the truth of them all is 
questioned, and the soul hangs in suspense as to the issue. 
In the midst of the plea and the contest the Comforter 
comes ; and by a word of promise or otherwise, overpowers 
the heart with a comfortable persuasion (and bears down all 
objections) that his plea is good, and that he is a child of 
God. And therefore it is said of him, " The Spirit beareth 



30 



ADOPTION^ — ASSURANCE. 



witness with our spirit." When our spirits are pleading 
their right and title, he comes in and bears witness on our 
side ; at the same time, enabling us to put forth acts of filial 
obedience, kind and child-like, which is crying, Abba, Fa- 
ther, Gal. iv. 6. Remember still the manner of the Spirit's 
working before mentioned ; that he doth it effectually, 
voluntarily, and freely. Hence, sometimes the dispute 
hangs long; the cause is pleading many years. The law 
seems sometimes to prevail ; sin and Satan to rejoice ; and 
the poor soul is filled with dread about its inheritance ; per- 
haps its own witness, from its faith, sanctification, former 
experience, keeps up the plea with some life and comfort : 
but the work is not done, the conquest is not fully obtained, 
until the Spirit, who worketh freely and effectually, when 
and how he will, comes in with his testimony also ; clothing 
his power with a word of promise, he makes all parties 
concerned to attend unto him, and puts an end to the con- 
troversy. 

" He looked for a city," &c. Thus the Hebrews took 
joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing in themselves 
that they had a better and an enduring substance. Thus 
we are preserved from the power of worldly temptations. 
Narrow and barren commons may urge the sheep to wan- 
der ; but it is otherwise with the green pastures and still 
waters. Fill a Christian with all joy and peace in believing, 
and he has no room to covet after evil things. His expo- 
sure is when " the consolations of God are small with him." 
— Jay. 

While the heaviest strokes fall on believers, their souls 
are ravished with the sweetest joy and exultation. Yet 'tis 
not thus always with the saints ; for though sin be pardoned, 
yet the apprehensions of guilt may remain, as old wounds, 
though cured, yet are felt in change of weather. When a 
stream is disturbed, it does not truly represent the object 
when the affections are disordered, the mind does not judge 
aright of a Christian's state. A serpent may hiss when it 
has lost its sting. I doubt not but some of the saints, whom 
death brings safely, yet not comfortably, to heaven, have 



ADOPTION ASSURANCE. 



31 



often been in anxieties to the last ; till their fears were dis- 
pelled by the actual fruition of blessedness, as the sun some- 
times sets in dark clouds, and rises in a glorious horizon. 

A servant may hope for kind attentions from his master 
in a day of necessity, though still to a limited extent ; but a 
son is assured that whatever relief a father can afford him 
shall be readily bestowed. His necessities may be great, 
and his trouble of long continuance, but he has no fear that 
the tender sympathy of his father shall fail. Now this is 
what " a spirit of adoption " gives to every true Christian, 
" He knows in whom he has believed." 

" Crying, Abba, Father." How delightful the relations be- 
tween God and the Christian as father and child ! The 
child receives everything freely from paternal love ; it does 
not come to the father as purchaser, or as the merchant with 
an equivalent. When a desire for any good arises in the 
child's mind, it does not offer to buy it at a price, but 
simply expresses its feelings, and asks it as a gift. In its 
earliest years the child cannot speak its wants plainly, yet 
even in infancy they are made known by looks and cries, 
and the father understands these expressions of its wishes. 
As the child grows up, all that the fahter requires is an 
affectionate and dutiful conduct, a reverence, and honour, 
and obedience, totally distinct from slavish fear. Such will 
be the spirit of the adopted child. 

" Abba, Father." It is an expresson by which, in th e 
simplest language, the strongest idea is conveyed. It gives 
us the different feelings of a slave, and of a child when the 
same person is in sight, while the slave would stand in 
silence, afraid to speak in the presence of his master, the 
child would run to him crying, My father, my father ! the 
ingenuous affection of a child would give it at once confi- 
dence and love. It is my father ! Thus impressed, a 
child does not stop to reason. There is an innate confidence, 
an innate love, an innate reverence, an innate desire to 
please him. Thus it is when the Holy Spirit acts as a spirit 
of adoption. 

Spiritual adoption rises far above any adoption known 
among men. There is a spirit attending it which proclaims 



32 



ADOPTION— ASSURANCE. 



it infallibly to be the adoption of God. A prince might adopt 
the child of a beggar, but could not insure to that child a 
princely spirit. He might employ means, give him the best 
title, the best example, the- best counsel, and yet the unto- 
ward youth might grow up with a low taste, and corrupt 
habits formed in his old connexions. But God never adopts 
any as his sons whom he does not also in due time invest 
with the temper and disposition of sons. With the title of 
a son of God he bestows also the qualifications — the spirit of 
a son. " And because ye are sons," &c. Gal. iv. 6. The 
adoption, and the temper, and feelings, which should natu- 
rally belong to a child and an heir of God, can never exist 
apart one from the other. And where there are no traces 
and evidences of the child-like spirit, there no adoption into 
the family of God has yet taken place. 

Fire is known to be no painted or imaginary fire by two 
notes, by heat, and by the flame. Now if the case so fall 
out, that the fire wants a flame, it is still known by the heat. 
In like manner there are two witnesses of our adoption or 
sanctification, God's Spirit and our spirit ; now if it so fall 
out, that a man feels not the principle, which is the spirit of 
adoption, he must then have recourse to the second witness, 
and search out in himself the signs and tokens of the sanc- 
tification of his own spirit, by which he may certainly assure 
himself of his adoption, as fire may be known to be fire by 
the heat, though it want a flame. — Spencer. 

Assurance is a fruit whose root is in heaven ; while carnal 
presumption is a rush that groweth in the puddled mire of 
our own hearts. We must be diligent to perform our 
duties ; this is the oil which keeps the lamp of assurance 
burning. Let us not be content to dwell in the tents of 
Kedar, where there is nothing but blackness and darkness, 
but ascend the mountains of God's promises, the cross of 
Christ, and there take a view of Canaan with its goodly 
prospects and glorious light. Assurance is the foretaste of 
heaven. 

Salvation, and the joy of salvation, are not always contem- 
poraneous : the latter does not always accompany the former 
in present experience, though ultimately, as cause and effect, 



ADOPTION ASSURANCE. 



33 



they must be united. Though they are not parallel lines, 
yet they are converging lines which must meet at last, how- 
ever gradual be- the tendency towards each other. They 
differ as life and health, as heirship and the means of 
knowing it. 

Hope is not paid down in ready money, as we say, what 
we hope for, but we have a good bond by assurance. Hope 
has still something in hand, because that which faith lays 
hold of is really and actually its own. Hope is faith's rent- 
gatherer, and takes up that which faith claims upon the 
bargain which Christ has made for us. An earnest penny is 
more than nothing ; and the ground of our work is the 
earnest which God gives us of our inheritance. Just as the 
blossoms of spring do not only promise, but are God's 
earnest to represent the fruits which will wax ripe in 
autumn. 

As certain as he that hath a corporeal eye knoweth that 
he sees, so certainly he that is illuminated with the light of 
faith knoweth that he believeth. The glorious splendour of 
such an orient and splendid jewel cannot but show itself, 
and shine clearly to the heart wherein it dwells. Like a 
bright lamp set up in the soul, it does not only manifest 
other things, but also itself appears by its own light. When 
I see and rely upon a man promising me this or that, I 
know, I see, and rely upon him. Shall I by faith behold 
my blessed Eedeemer lifted up, as an only antitype of the 
brazen serpent, for the everlasting cure of my wounded 
conscience, and rest upon him, and yet know no such 
thing ? 

Assurance is often hindered by the mind being improperly 
directed to faith, (as if it were a kind of abstract principle,) 
rather than to the truth, or the object of faith ; to the acts 
of their mind, instead of the truth of God. To such we 
would simply say, " Look unto Jesus." A man who hears 
good news and believes it, knows, and can tell where his joy 
arises. If addressed to him, and containing what is adapted 
to his circumstances, it fills him with gladness. This glad- 
ness does not arise from any reflection on the exercises of 
his mind in believing it, but from the thing itself believed. 

D 



34 



ADOPTION ASSURANCE. 



It were well for our peace if we looked more to the thing- 
testified, than in what manner we have believed the 
tidings. 

If a man have his debts paid, he is able to produce his 
acquittance that they are paid : when we have such pro- 
mises so made over to produce, they are, as it were, ac- 
quittances under hand and seal. Suppose a relation gives 
you an inheritance, and good evidences to assure you of it, 
and an erring fellow should come and tell you your evidence 
is naught, will you, upon his prattle, judge your title as no- 
thing? When the Lord has given you good evidence of 
forgiveness, will you then, upon Satan's cavils, judge your 
evidences to be nothing ? 

They who on the strength of Scripture will not believe 
that their sins are forgiven them, without it is confirmed to 
them by a personal grant, are saying that they will not trust 
God without his bond. 

It is the light of the Sun of Righteousness reflected, by the 
oracles of truth in his church, which causes the spring-tide 
of spiritual peace and joy in the heart ; the absence of that 
light produces an ebb in the waters of spiritual consolation. 
The awakened mind, jealous of its state, is in danger of 
attributing effects and feelings to nature which grace only 
can effect. Like the perverted imagination in some cases of 
lunacy, it rejects the nourishment after which it hungers, for 
fear of the danger of poison which it associates with the use 
of that nourishment. 

When the sun or a star ariseth, they bring their natural 
light with them, and thereby discover themselves to the 
world ; so, when the day-star of grace and law of God 
arise in a man's heart, they bring their light with them, and 
so manifest themselves to the soul. The law, put into the 
heart by God , brings a spiritual light with it by which it 
may be discovered, as a diamond brings with it its own 
bright and orient sparkling. 

The greatest prince observes with delight the affection 
of the meanest peasants among his subjects; much more 
would they please themselves, if they had occasion to take 
notice of any remarkable expression of his favourable re- 



BELIEVERS. 



35 



spect to them! But how unspeakably more, if he vouch- 
safe to express it by gracious intimacies, and by condescend- 
ing familiarities ! How doth this person bless himself! 
How doth his spirit triumph, and his imagination luxu- 
riate in delightful thoughts and expectations, who is 
in his own heart assured that he has the favour of his 
prince ? Yea, with what complacency are inward friends 
wont to receive the mutual expressions of each other's love ? 
And can it be thought the love of the great and blessed 
God should signify less ? How great things are compre- 
hended in this — the Lord of Heaven and Earth hath a 
kindness for me, and bears me good-will ! How grateful is 
the relish of this apprehension, both in respect of what it 
in itself imports, and what it is the root and cause of ! 

Many fears, like waves, ever and anon cover the soul 
that is not buoyed up by assurance ; it is more under water 
than above ; whereas one that sees itself folded in the arms 
of Almighty power, O how such a soul goes mounting be- 
fore the wind, with his sails filled with joy and peace ! Let 
afflictions come, storms arise, this blessed soul knows where 
it shall land and be welcome. The name of God is his har- 
bour, where he puts in as boldly as a man steps into his 
own house, when taken in a shower. He hears God calling 
him into this and other of his attributes, as chambers taken 
up for him. Isaiah xxvi. " Come, my people, enter into 
thy chambers." His heart is ever speaking, " Be thou my 
strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort." 



The Gospel is a " depositum," a public treasure, com- 
mitted to the keeping of every Christian ; each man having, 
as it were, a several key of the church, a several trust for 
the honour of this kingdom delivered unto him. As, in the 
solemn coronation of the prince, every peer of the realm 
hath his situation about the throne, and, with the touch of 
his hand upon the royal crown, declareth the personal duty 

d 2 



36 



BELIEVERS. 



of that honour which he is called unto, namely to 
hold the crown on the head of his sovereign, to make 
it the main end of his greatness to study, and by all means 
endeavour the establishment of hts prince's throne ; so 
every Christian, as soon as he hath the honour to be called 
unto the kingdom and presence of Christ, hath immedi- 
ately no meaner a depositum committed to his care than 
the very throne and crown of his Saviour ; than the pub- 
lic honour, peace, victory, and stability of his Master's 
kingdom. 

That flower that follows the sun, doth so even in cloudy 
days ; when it does not shine forth, yet it follows the hidden 
course and motion of it : so the soul that moves after 
God keeps that course when he hides his face ; is content, 
yea, is glad at his will in all estates, or conditions, or wants. 

A kite soaring on high is in a situation quite foreign to 
its nature ; as much as the soul of man is, when raised 
above this lower world to high and heavenly pursuits. A 
person at a distance sees not how it is kept in its exalted 
situation: he sees not the wind that blows it, nor the 
hand that holds it, nor the string by whose instrumentality 
it is held. But all of these powers are necessary to its 
preservation in that preternatural state. If the wind were 
to sink, it would fall. It has nothing whatever in itself to 
uphold itself: it has the same tendency to gravitate to the 
earth that it ever had, and, if left for a moment to itself, 
it would fall. Thus it is with the soul of every true be- 
liever. It has been raised by the Spirit of God to a new, 
a preternatural, a heavenly state ; aud in that state it is 
upheld by an invisible and Almighty hand, through the me- 
dium of faith. And upheld it shall he, but not by any 
power in itself. If left for a moment, it would fall as 
much as ever. Its whole strength is in God alone ; and its 
whole security is in the unchangeableness of his nature, and in 
the efficacy of his grace. In a word, " it is kept by the 
power of God, through faith, unto salvation." 

I have often seen young and unskilful persons sitting in 
a little boat, when every little wave sporting about the sides 
of the vessel, and every motion and dancing of the barge, 



BELIEVERS. 



37 



seemed a danger, and made them cling fast upon their 
fellows ; and yet all the while they were as safe as if they 
sat under a tree, while a gentle wind shook the breeze 
into a refreshment, and a cooling shade. And the un- 
skilful, inexperienced Christian shrieks out whenever his 
vessel shakes, thinking it always a danger that the watery 
pavement is not stable and resident as a rock ; and yet 
all his danger is in himself, none at all from without ; for 
he is indeed moving upon the waters, but fastened to a 
rock ; faith is his foundation, and hope is his anchor, and 
death is his harbour, and Christ his pilot, and heaven his 
country : and all the evils of poverty, or affronts of tri- 
bunals and evil judges, of fears and sudden apprehensions, 
are but like the loud wind blowing from the right point ; 
they make a noise, and drive faster to the harbour ; and 
if we do not leave the ship, and leap into the sea ; quit the 
interest of religion, and run to the securities of the world ; 
cut our cables, and dissolve our hopes ; grow impatient and 
hug a wave, which dies in its embraces ; we are as safe at 
sea, safer in the storm that God sends us, than in a calm 
when befriended by the world. 

What can a living child, new-born, do ? He is as weak 
as water ; he cannot speak, he cannot stand, he cannot 
conquer a flea. But what may not this child do when he is 
grown up ? There is the spirit of a man in him ; there is 
a soul in him, which in time will do wondrous things : a 
dead child neither can do anything, neither is there hope 
that ever he should : but a living child hath a soul, hath 
that within him which in time will do much. So the be- 
liever hath that within him which will be the death of his 
enemies ; he is not only interested in Christ, and what he 
hath done, but Christ is " in him ;" " the Spirit of Christ," 
which is the power of the living God, is in him. " He that 
hath not the Spirit of Christ is none of his." — Rom. viii. 9. 
The same power by which Christ overcame is already com- 
municated to the soul of a believer : and thence may he be 
said to have already conquered, because he hath received that 
Spirit of power, which will certainly work for him the 
victory. 

There is justness and great beauty in the scripture image 



38 



BELIEVERS 



of a fruit tree to represent the children of God, and 
members of Christ. A tree is in itself a pleasing figure ; a 
fruit tree laden with its j)recious fruit still more ; and most 
of all when its fruit is fully ripe, and fit for use. Exactly 
according to the figure, a real Christian is lovely in his 
outset ; more so in his steady progress, unawed by worldly 
fears and hopes, and uncorrupted by alluring objects of 
sense ; but most of all in old age, when he bears a visible 
testimony to the faithfulness of God's promises in Christ 
Jesus, that he will be as the dew to Israel, and that the path 
of the just shineth brighter and brighter unto the perfect 
day. Nevertheless, there will be great variety in the de- 
votional feelings of the soul amidst fixedness of heart to 
God, and unchanging principle ; like the " tree which is 
pleasant to the sight, and good for food," that passes 
through various changes of foliage as the seasons advance, 
yet produces from year to year the same sweet fruit as when 
it first became capable of bearing. 

A mariner who puts forth to sea, losing sight of land, 
beholds nothing but a waste of waters around him. The 
night comes on, and clouds and darkness gather in upon 
him. And the channel through which he is passing, may 
be a narrow and a dangerous one. But still he has an 
infallible guide on board ; he has his chart and his compass 
to consult with. So the Christian pursuing his course has 
darkness shrouding his path-way, and storms and tempests 
threatening his progress : but he, too, has an infallible 
guide, the Holy Spirit within him, and tracts of light 
opened upon him in the Scriptures. The mariner, whilst 
he furnishes his ship with everything likely to be useful in 
the voyage, mast and sails, rudder and compass, trusts to 
the winds of heaven to give effect to his preparations, to 
give, as it were, energy and life to the vessel he navigates : 
because he knows that without the wind his preparations are 
useless ; so, without due preparation, the most favourable 
gale would blow in vain for him. He regulates the sail as 
the wind requires, and holds to the rudder, never loses 
sight of the compass, and watchfully keeps the narrow way 
to which it confines him by night and by day. So, the 
wse Christian, after all due preparation on his own part 



BELIEVERS 



39 



for his voyage, looks up as one continually dependent on 
the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the one source of all his 
spiritual life and motion. He is careful to watch the least 
breathing of the Spirit upon his soul, that he may not 
quench it, but yield himself up to its full impression. And 
adding to this his faith all diligence aud watchfulness, he 
is wafted onwards in safety, amidst the storms and wrecks 
around him in an evil world. — Pulpit. 

You look on a poor, praying, self-denying believer, but 
you look not before you on a saint that shall reign with 
Christ, and judge the world, " when he cometh to be glori- 
fied in his saints, and admired in all them that believe." — 
2 Thess. i. 10. You see them " sow their seed in tears," 
but you see it not springing up ; nor do you foresee the joy- 
ful harvest. You see them following Christ through tribu- 
lation, bearing his cross, and despising the shame ; but you 
see them not yet sit down with him on their thrones. The 
fight you see, but the triumph you see not. You see them 
tossed at sea, but you know not how sure a pilot they have ; 
nor do you see the riches of their freight. You see sick- 
ness or persecution unpinning their corruptible rags, and 
death undressing them, but you see not the clothes which 
they are putting on. You see them laid asleep by death ; 
but you see not their awaking ; nor the rising of their 
sun, when " the righteous shall have dominion in the 
morning." The man that is dead to the world you see ; 
but you see not " the life that is hid with Christ in God," 
nor their " appearing with him in glory, when Christ, who 
is their life, appears." Your unbelieving souls imagine 
there will be no May or harvest, because it is now winter 
with us. You think the rose and beauteous flowers, which 
are promised us in that spring, are but delusions, be- 
cause you know not the virtue of that life that is in the 
root, nor the powerful influence of that Sun of the be- 
liever. You see the dead body, but you see not the soul, 
alive with Christ, retired into its root. You see the candle 
put out, and know not whither the flame is gone, and think 
not how small a touch of the yet living soul will light it 
again. 



40 



BELIEVERS. 



There cannot be a true judgment of a Christian, either 
when he is best disposed, or when he is worst disposed. 
One that has less grace may sometimes, in the use of the 
means and ordinances, feel high and holy affections in an 
unusual manner : an excellent saint, in time of temptation, 
may feel the power of corruption strangely great. Suppose 
you saw a man of great strength labouring under a fainting 
fit; at the time he is weaker than a woman; and to judge 
of his powers, and decide that he was a man of little 
strength from his present appearance, would be a great 
mistake ; just as it would be if you saw a man in a fever, 
who, at the time, may be stronger than two, and you de- 
cided that he was possessed of great bodily powers. But 
we may judge of the degrees of grace from the habitual 
frame of the heart, and the ordinary regularity of the life. 

When Matthew Prior was secretary to King William's 
ambassador in France, a.d. 1698, he was shown, by the 
French king's household at Versailles, the victories of 
Louis XIV. painted by Le Brun ; and being asked whe- 
ther the actions of King William were likewise to be seen 
in his palace ? Prior answered, " ~No ; the monuments of 
my master's actions are to be seen everywhere but in his 
own house." So the good works of a true believer shine 
everywhere except in his own esteem. 

It is made a matter of surprise that many professors are 
so unfruitful amidst so much seeming diligence in spiritual 
things. You go into a garden and behold a stately fruit 
tree spreading its branches, and covered with abundant 
blossom, and conclude that in the fall of the year it will 
be loaded with fruit. Some months after, you again see 
the tree, expecting fruit on it, and you are surprised to 
find none. On looking closer into it, you see the remains 
of a blight, which explains the matter. It is so with 
many a professor in the church. He stands as a tree in the 
vineyard, and he is diligent in the use of all the public 
ordinances ; he bears the blossoms of an abundant promise, 
but months and years roll away, and yet there is no real 
fruitfulness ; he is a barren tree, though covered thickly 
with the leaves and blossoms of profession. How is this? 



BELIEVERS 



4! 



Look narrowly, and you will find a blight has come upon the 
man, and destroyed all chance of fruit. One is blighted 
with impenitence, another with pride or uncharitableness, 
a third with worldliness or covetousness ; it is this which 
mars the growth of grace, and this explains the seeming 
mystery. 

The young convert may be compared to a child, whom his 
father is leading over a rugged and uneven path. After 
proceeding for some time without much difficulty, he for- 
gets that it has been owing to his father's assistance — begins 
to think that he may now venture to walk by himself, and 
consequently falls. Humbled and dejected, he then feels 
his own weakness, and clings to his father for support. 
Soon, however, elated with his progress, he again forgets the 
kind hand which sustains him, fancies he needs no more as- 
sistance, and again falls. This process is repeated a thousand 
times in the course of the Christian's experience, till he 
learns at length that his own strength is perfect weakness, 
and that he must depend solely on his heavenly Father. 

In the hands of a skilful husbandman, even weeds are 
turned to good account. When rooted up and burnt, they 
are good manure, and conduce to fertilize the land they 
annoyed before. So the doubts, and fears, and the infirmi- 
ties of the elect are overruled by Almighty grace to their 
present and eternal good ; as conducing to keep us humble 
at God's footstool ; to endear the merits of Jesus, and to 
make us feel our weakness and dependence, and to render 
us watchful unto prayer. 

Holy fear is a searching the camp that there be no enemy 
within our bosom to betray us, and seeing that all be fast 
and sure. For I see many leaky vessels fair before the 
wind, and professors who take their conversion upon trust, 
and they go on securely, and see not the under water till a 
storm sink them. 

Conceive the case of a man, who, having been cast upon 
a dreary inhospitable island, awaits the time for a vessel to 
come and bear him away. He paces its barren and desert 
sands, and looks up at the overcast sky, anxiously waiting 
for its arrival to carry him to a land of light and fertility. 



42 



BELIEVERS, 



So the Christian, like the exile on a rock, feels that he is 
far from his natural home, and is looking for, and hasting 
unto the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. He knows that the 
vessel is prepared, and the convoy ready, which are to bear 
him hence from a barren wilderness to a happy land flowing 
with milk and honey. 

Before we can become as healthy and fruitful trees, and 
bear precious fruit, and communicate our light and fruitful- 
ness to others, we must have the generous light of the Sun 
of Righteousness shining on us. What is it makes the 
tree on the wall to bear ? Not a crude and sour produce, but 
fruit rich in flavour and maturity ? It is the genial heat of 
the sun reflecting its heat from the wall on the tree. It is 
the sun pouring its beams upon the wall, which is the cause 
of its fruitfulness. The wall can thus reflect its warmth and 
heat on the tree. So the Christian, before he can impart to 
others, must have light and warmth from Christ shining 
upon him. If he would he a source of fruitfulness to others, 
he must not stand in the shade, hut come directly within the 
beams of the Sun of Righteousness. Then he will be en- 
abled to reflect the warmth of these beams on others. They 
will become fruitful from their contact with him. He will 
be a shining light, and they will drink of his reflected light. 
His soul will glow with love to Christ, and man for Christ's 
sake, and he will communicate its generous and life-giving 
flame to those around him. 

How can it be supposed that a believer is freed from the 
restraints of the law ? His wildness and disposition to walk 
loosely still remain, and he therefore still needs the bhV and 
bridle. Not only colts, but horses already broken, still need 
a bridle. So, though a believer has learned to obey, and 
needs not the severity and restraint practised with a colt, 
yet he still requires a curb and a bridle to restrain his 
licentiousness, and direct his way. Now the law is that 
bridle. 

A man rescued from drowning, under suspended anima- 
tion, presents no appearance but that of a dead man, but 
the spark of life is not extinct, and with proper remedies he 
will be restored, and perforin the offices of life. So a strong 



BELIEVERS. 



43 



man, overcome by a violent distemper, has his strength 
prostrated to the ground, and is as weak as a little child. 
But the principle of manhood is still within him, and once 
restored he will again put forth the mightiness of his 
strength. In like manner a believer is sometimes beat 
down to the ground with the force of some mighty sin. 
His conscience, meanwhile, is like that of a man in a 
swoon ; like David, who, after the matter of Uriah, lived 
on for a time with a stupid conscience. But, as in the royal 
offender, there is a principle of recovery in him. He needs 
the arrow of conviction, " thou art the man," to pierce his 
soul, and he shall straightway be healed. 

The liberty of the subject could never be preserved in a 
lawless state of society, but violence and tyranny would 
reduce to a slavish obedience the weak and the timid. The 
palladium of civil liberty is law ; law well defined, excluding 
the fluctuations of caprice on one side, and of aggression 
on the other ; law rigorously executed also, for the best code 
is a dead letter if it be not accompanied by a living and 
firm executive. So the liberty of the believer is secured by 
the law of God, when brought under its guidance and go- 
vernment. While living under the misrule of his fallen 
nature, he is the sport of every capricious imagination, and 
successively the slave of his predominant passions. Rom. 
vi. 16. But let Christ's government be set up, and he be- 
comes Christ's freeman ; " sin has no longer dominion over 
him;" he is no longer its wretched captive, but is under 
gracious law, for " where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is 
liberty." 

We should always stand " with our lamps burning, and 
our loins girt." A Christian should always be as a ship 
that has taken in its lading, and is prepared and furnished 
with all manner of tackling, ready to sail, only expecting 
the good winds to carry him out of the haven. So should 
we be ready to set sail for the ocean of eternity, and stand 
at heaven's gate, be in a perpetual exercise of faith and love, 
and be fittingly prepared to meet our Saviour. 

Believers are mirrors to reflect the glory of God. A 
mirror, if placed opposite to a luminous object, will reflect 



44 



BELIEVERS. 



its rays, and show distinctly its image. Such is the Christian 
man under the Gospel. Looking- steadily to God, and 
beholding him face to face, there is nothing to shut out the 
rays of his glory, like beams of light, from shining upon 
them. And now they reflect his light in the imitation of 
his perfections, and become as so many mirrors, where his 
image, which they have contemplated in the Gospel, shines 
forth to the glory of their God. 

It is recorded of Alexander the Great, that a soldier was 
reported to him as having betrayed great cowardice on a 
particular occasion, on which Alexander called him to him 
and asked his name. On hearing that his name was Alex- 
ander, he upbraided him with the dishonour that he brought 
on such a name, and entreated him either to change 
his manners or to change his name, asking him how he 
could dare, while known as Alexander, to act unworthily ? 
And shall not the Christian remember the high and holy 
name by which he is called, and dread encountering the 
guilt and meanness of dishonouring his Head, who was 
" holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners." That 
name, in its very signification, tells him that he is related to 
the anointed One, and that (as the name implies) all his 
members, in their measure and degree, are anointed ones. 
How shall they who take this sacred unction upon them, 
dare to dishonour this name, and so sin against Christ ? 

A truly gracious man, like a thorough good watch, may 
deviate and point wrong for a season, but, like the machine 
just mentioned, will, after a short time, with a single touch, 
come round, aud point right as before. 

Observe the daybreak. At first but a beam of light is 
seen to glimmer in the midst of the darkness, and the night 
still seems to hold its undisturbed sway. But the beam 
becomes slowly a streak of light shooting its ray in the path 
of heaven. It becomes more fixed and determinate in its 
character — it increases — it is a growing light. There is a 
mass of darkness yet around, and clouds still hang about it 
— but it contends successfully with the darkness, still it 
penetrates — still it breaks through the hideous mass — the 
contest is no longer doubtful, the clouds and shadows flee 



BELIEVERS. 



45 



away. But this rising beam, at first so faintly seen and 
dimly visible, would have been soon lost and overwhelmed 
in the darkness which it invaded, if it had not been a beam 
from an exhaustless fountain of light — the sun. That con- 
tinued to send fresh supplies of light by adding beam upon 
beam. And now it pours out its effulgent rays, and now 
this dawning beam is become a bright and glorious sun, 
ascending majestically the heavens, the mighty creative 
principle of fruitfulness, ripening, maturing, and enriching 
the earth, and in its brightness showing forth a faint image 
of its Maker's glory. Striking emblem of the believer's 
progress ! At first spiritually dead, midnight rests upon 
his soul ; but he awakes at the voice of Him who cries, 
" Awake thou that sleepest," &c. And there is light in his 
soul ! It is a beam from the Eternal Spirit, flashing convic- 
tion of his sinfulness, and only serving to make visible to 
him the darkness and misery of his benighted state. But 
it leads him on, through many perplexities, in his inquiry 
how he shall find peace with God. " His feet stumble on 
the dark mountains," and his little light appears often in 
danger of being totally eclipsed. But it is like the smoking 
flax which shall not be quenched. And he has learned to 
distinguish it at last as the true light ; and that which was 
but a beam becomes a light shining in darkness ; and as 
he continues to follow it, it at last guides him to the cross, 
and he is enabled steadily to gaze upon him who is the 
Light of the world. From Christ, who was raised from that 
cross with power, he receives " grace for grace." And now 
behold him ; " looking unto Jesus, he runs the race that is 
set before him, casting off every weight," and " like the sun 
when he goeth forth in his strength." Now he causes his 
light to shine out, and men beholding his good works, God 
is glorified. He is the cause of fruitfulness to others, and 
reflects his Maker's image in the beauty of holiness. 

The believer's feelings are those of an exile, who, amidst 
various comforts, still thinks of his home, his country, and 
his friends. The hope of his return gilds the intermediate 
hours of his existence ; he fulfils his duty, he refreshes his 
spirit by the objects of beauty or of interest which are 



46 



BELIEVERS. 



around him, but liis affections cling around bis native shores. 
To that unforgotten scene the needle of his heart turns 
hourly. Thus it is with the Christian on whom the mercy 
of God is exerting its sacred and purifying influence. Re- 
ligion is to him, not the cold balance of certain restrictions 
and certain comforts, but the warm acknowledgments of 
infinite obligations and infinite love. It is the blessed and 
refreshing conviction that yet a little while, and the veil 
which hides him from his true happiness will be withdrawn ; 
that yet a little while, and the Saviour, into whose hands he 
has confided the great interests of his soul, will return. 

Saints are outwitted by the world in the things of the 
world, and no marvel ; neither does it impeach their wisdom, 
any more than it does a scholar's to be excelled by a cobbler 
in his mean trade. Nature, where it intends higher excel- 
lencies, is more careless in those things which are inferior ; 
as we see in man, who, being made to excel the beasts in a 
rational soul, is himself excelled by some beast or other in 
all his senses. Thus the Christian may well be surpassed in 
matters of worldly commerce, because he has a nobler object 
in his eye, that makes him converse with the things of the 
world in a kind of non-attendance ; he is not much careful 
in these matters ; if he can die well at last, and be justified 
for a wise man at the day of resurrection, all is well. 

The traveller may go as fast, and ride over as much 
ground, when the sun cloth not shine, as when it doth ; 
(though indeed he goeth not so merrily on his journey ;) 
nay, sometimes he makes the more haste ; the warm sun 
makes him sometimes to lie down and loiter; but when 
dark and cold, he puts on with more speed. Some graces 
thrive best, like some flowers, in the shade, such as humility, 
dependence on God, &c. 

It is with God and the soul as between the sun and the 
earth. In the decline of the year, when the sun seems to 
draw afar off from us, how doth the earth mourn and droop ; 
how do the trees cast off the ornament of their leaves and 
fruits ; how doth the sap of all plants run down to the 
roots, leaving the bare boughs seemingly sere and dead ! 
But, at the manifestation of it in the rising of the spring, all 



BELIEVERS. 



47 



things seem revived ; the earth decks herself in the fresh 
habiliments of blossoms, leaves, and flowers, to entertain 
those comfortable heats and influences. So, and no more, 
in the declining and approach of this all-glorious Sun of 
Righteousness ; in his presence there is life and blessedness, 
in his absence nothing but grief, disconsolateness, and 
despair. If an earthly being do but withdraw himself from 
us for a time, we are troubled ; how much more if the King 
of glory shall absent himself from us in displeasure ! 

To be filling up our thoughts with everything and any- 
thing but what is suited to our high and princely calling in 
Christ Jesus, is as glaring an absurdity as that of a man of 
rank disgracing himself to the sordid pleasures of the 
lowest rabble. Thus Xero went up and down Greece, and 
challenged the fiddlers at their trade. iEropus, a Mace- 
donian king, made lanterns. Harcatius, the king of Parthia, 
was a mole-catcher. Biantes, the Lydian, filed needles. 
Domitian amused himself with catching and killing flies. 

Our design in receiving anything from God should be to 
render it again to him. It has been said, wicked and un- 
thankful men are but like vapours and exhalations drawn 
out of the earth, which do but eclipse the sun which raises 
them : so is it when God raises up these men by his bounty 
and goodness, who, by their wickedness and ingratitude, 
stain and eclipse his glory in the world. Whereas godly 
men are like rivers, which, as they receive all their 
strength from the sea, so they return all back again to the 
sea ; so, whatever truly devout persons receive from God, 
they improve all for, and return all back again unto him. 

A good man, though unlearned in secular matters, is like 
the windows of the temple, narrow without, and broad 
within ; — he sees not so much of what profits not abroad ; 
but whatsoever is within, and concerns religion, and many 
ways of glorifying God, that he sees with a broad inspection ; 
but all human learning without God is but blindness and 
ignorant folly. 

I have been watching the smoke as it went up from the 
numerous chimneys around me ; there was scarcely any 
air, yet how obediently it moved in the direction of the 



48 



BELIEVERS. 



softest breeze ! So it is with the regenerate soul, when God 
breathes upon its renewed powers. " He makes it willing 
in the day of his power." 

A believer only can extract profit and sweetness from 
God's creatures. It is not every fly which can extract 
honey from the sweetest flower, though a bee can do it 
from that which we call a weed. An ignorant countryman 
hath a meadow which abounds with a variety of herbs — he 
can make no other use of them than to feed his cattle ; or if 
he walk into his garden, he can only smell the sweetest of 
the flowers ; but a skilful chemist knows their use, and can 
extract many a wholesome remedy for diseases from them. — 
Spencer. 

A worldly man, indeed, like a mole or bat, or some short- 
sighted animal, sees no objects or prospects of welfare but 
such as apply immediately to bodily sense ; but the real 
Christian having reached, and being elevated on the sublime 
top of truth, looks by faith, as through an unerring tele- 
scope, over the low and narrow bounds of earth and time, 
beholds the everlasting hills of that land which is far off, 
and contemplates with joy the inheritance. 

A good man is not infallible ; a good man may err, may 
fall ; but there is life in that man, there is a principle in that 
man ; fainting is not dying. The bough may be borne down 
by the violence of the flood, but when the pressure has 
rolled off, it will regain its erectness, and point towards 
heaven. 

The grateful soul of a healthy Christian is not a desert 
that drinks of the dews of heaven, and produces no verdure 
in return, but every cloud seems to drop upon it fatness and 
fertility; so that each season of spiritual enjoyment is 
followed by some instance of grace, and zeal for the glory of 
his Redeemer. His piety is such, that like the rose he 
breathes forth sweetness of his very nature ; not the sickli- 
ness of a fulsome profession, but the healthy perfume of a 
tree the Lord has planted, and is nurturing to his own 
glory. 

There is ever a fresh fragrance flowing from the rose of 
Sharon, increasing in sweetness : so is it with the Christian, 



BELIEVERS. 



49 



whose heart is filled with love to Christ, because he is of one 
spirit with Christ. There is a holy atmosphere, as it were, 
about him. Wherever he goes, he is a blessing. He is 
like a fragrant flower brought into a room, the refreshing 
odour of which diffuses itself among all the company. He 
is like the sandal tree, which diffuses its fragrance to every- 
thing that touches it. 

The difference between a Christian with trials and afflic- 
tions, and contending under them, and a Christian. without 
them, is like the difference between a soldier on the parade 
going through his exercise, and a soldier on the battle 
plain. 

When Henry the Fourth, the king of France, was told 
of the king of Spain's ample dominions, he said, " He is king 
of Castile, and I am king of France ; he is king of Navarre, 
and I am king of France ; he is king of Naples, and I am 
king of France ; he is king of Sicily, Nova Scotia, Hispa- 
niola, and of the Western Indies, and I am king of France." 
He thought the kingdom of France equivalent to all those. 
So let the soul of every good Christian solace itself against, 
all the wants of this mortal pilgrimage in this life, that it 
is a member of the church : one hath more learning or wit, 
yet I am a Christian ; another hath more honour or prefer- 
ment in the world, yet I am a Christian ; another hath more 
silver and gold, and riches, yet I am a Christian ; another 
hath large possessions, yet I have an inheritance in heaven, 
I am a Christian. Were but this consideration of the true 
Christian's worth laid in the balance of the sanctuary, it 
would weigh down all temporary conceits whatsoever. — 
Spencer. 

Many there are that are accounted deep scholars, great 
linguists, excellent mathematicians, sharp logicians, cunning 
politicians, fine rhetoricians, sweet musicians, &c. These for 
the most part spend all their time to delight themselves and 
please others, catching at the shadow, and losing the sub- 
stance ; they study the circumstance of these arts, but omit 
the pith and marrow of them ; whereas he is the best 
grammarian, that hath learnt to speak the truth from his 
heart ; the best astronomer, that hath his conversation in 

e 



50 



BELIEVERS. 



heaven; the best musician, that hath learnt to sing the 
praises of his God ; the best arithmetician, that numbereth 
his days, he that amendeth his life, and groweth every day 
better and better ; he is cunning in the ethics, that traineth 
up his family in the fear of the Lord ; he is the best econo- 
mist who is wise to salvation, prudent in giving and taking 
good counsel ; he is the best politician, and he is a good lin- 
guist, that speaks the language of Canaan ; thus the best 
Christian is the best artist, — Ibid. 

Our common law distinguished! between two manner of 
freeholders ; a freeholder, indeed, when a man hath made 
his entry upon lands, and is thereof really seized ; a free- 
holder in law, when a man hath right to possession, but hath 
not made his actual entry ; so is the kingdom of heaven 
ours ; ours in the inheritance of the possession, though not 
in the possession of the inheritance ; we are heirs to it, 
though now we be but wards. Our minority bids and binds 
us to be servants, Gal. iv. ; but when we come to full years, 
a perfect growth in godliness, then we shall have a plenary 
possession. — Ibid. 

The faithful in Scripture are compared oftentimes to 
trees, which, though they be well rooted, yet may be shaken ; 
and to Noah's ark, which, though it was a safe harbour, yet 
it was tossed; and to a house built on a rock, which, though 
it be firm, and cannot be removed, yet it may be moved ; 
and to stars, which, though they be heavenly, yet are 
twinkling ; and, among them, much to the moon, which with 
her light hath yet some dark spots. — Ibid. 

The life of the active Christian is the labour of the bee, 
which all day long is flying from the hive to the flower, and 
from the flower to the hive ; but all his business is confined 
to fragrancy, and productive of sweets. There are many 
promises made to perseverance in the divine life, and this is 
one. "Then shall we follow on to know the Lord; his 
going forth is prepared as the morning, and he shall come 
unto us as the rain, as the latter and former rain unto the 
earth." The believer shall bring forth his fruit in due 
season. 

If men have been termed pilgrims, and life a journey, 



BELIEVERS. 



51 



then we may add that the christian pilgrimage far surpasses 
all others in the following important particulars : in the 
goodness of the road — in the beauty of the prospects — in 
the excellence of the company — and in the vast superiority 
of the accommodation provided for the christian traveller 
when he has finished his course. 

A man and a beast may stand upon the same mountain, 
and even touch one another; yet they are in two different 
worlds : the beast perceives nothing but the grass ; but the 
man contemplates the prospect, and thinks of a thousand re- 
mote things. Thus a Christian may be solitary at a full ex- 
change : he can converse with the people there upon trade, 
politics, and the stocks ; but they cannot talk with him upon 
the peace of God which passeth all understanding. 

As the natural appetite is carried out towards food, though 
we should not reflect on the necessity of it for the preservation 
of our lives ; so are the regenerate carried with a natural and 
unforced propension towards that which is good and commend- 
able. It is true, external motives are many times of great 
use to excite and stir up this inward principle, especially in 
its infancy and weakness, when it is often so languid that 
the man himself can scarce discern it, hardly being able to 
move one step forward, but when he is pushed by his hopes 
or his fears, by the pressure of an affliction, or the sense of 
a mercy, by the authority of the law, or the persuasion of 
others. But he who is utterly destitute of this inward prin- 
ciple, and doth not aspire unto it, but contents himself with 
those performances whereunto he is prompted by education 
or custom, by the fear of hell, or carnal notions of heaven, 
can no more be called a religious person, than a puppet can 
be called a man. This forced and artificial religion is com- 
monly heavy and languid, like the motion of a weight forced 
upwards ; it is cold and spiritless, like the uneasy compliance 
of a wife married against her will, who carries it dutifully 
towards her husband, whom she doth not love, out of some 
sense of virtue and honour. Hence all this religion is scant 
and niggardly, especially in those duties which do greatest 
violence to men's carnal inclinations ; and those slavish 
spirits will be sure to do no more than is absolutely required : 

e 2 



52 



BELIEVERS. 



it is a law that compels them, and they will be loath to go 
beyond what it stints them to ; nay, they will be ever putting 
such glosses on it as may leave themselves the greatest 
liberty : whereas the spirit of true religion is frank and 
liberal, far from such peevish and narrow reckoning ; and 
he who hath given himself entirely unto God, will never 
think he doth too much for him. 

For an old Christian to say to a young one, " Stand in my 
eminence," is like a man who has with difficulty climbed by 
a ladder or scaffolding to the top of the house, and cries to 
one at the bottom, " This is the place for a prospect, come 
up at a step." 

All believers, from the bruised reed to the tallest cedar; 
from the smoking flax on earth to the flaming lamp in 
heaven ; from Thomas, who would not believe without 
seeing, to Abraham, who could believe without staggering — 
all are in a state of life : and all, from the most beautiful 
moralist to the meanest reptile in natures fields ; from the 
young man in the Gospel, who was not far from the king- 
dom of God, to Judas, who was in the very bottom of hell — 
all are in a state of death. 

We have seen the master of a vessel act for the most 
part as his own pilot. His other cares and pursuits have 
been various. Sometimes he has been directing the repair 
of a mast, the use of a sail, the display of a signal ; sometimes 
making preparations for the comfort of his crew or passen- 
gers ; sometimes engaged in a hearty repast ; now using 
his telescope, and now in lively conversation ; hut still his 
hand was on the helm, or not far off, and his whole days were 
days of pilotage. 

A Persian king, willing to oblige his courtiers, gave to 
one a golden cup, and to the other a kiss ; and he that had 
the former complained to the king that his fellow's kiss was 
more to be valued than his golden cup. Christ does not 
put off his people with the golden cup, but he gives them 
his kiss, which is infinitely better. He gives his best gifts 
to his best beloved ones ; he gives his best love, his best joy, 
his best peace, his best mercies. — Spencer. 

O believer, what matters it if God denies thee a kid to 



BELIEVERS. 



53 



make merry ; when he says, " Son, thou art ever with me, 
and all that I have is thine ?" Hath a son any cause to 
complain that his father denies him a flower in the garden, 
when he makes him heir of his whole estate? 

God's people below are kings incog. They are travelling, 
disguised like pilgrims, to their dominions above. Once a 
king unto God, always so. God does not make kings for 
the devil to unmake at his pleasure. If you are spiritual 
kings, be holy. Should I meet a person all in dirt and rags, 
I should be mad, was I to take that person for a king or a 
queen. Nor can I believe you to be royally descended, or 
crowned for the skies, unless you carry the marks of royalty 
in your life and conversation. If any of God's anointed 
kings so far forget their dignity as to live in sin, their throne 
will shake ; the crown will tremble on their heads ; they 
will be driven from their palace for a time, like David when 
he fled from Absalom, and went weeping over the brook 
Kedron. But, like David, they shall be brought back again 
to Jerusalem, (for Christ will not lose the purchase of his 
blood,) though not until they have severely smarted for it. 

Little more can be said concerning the generality of men, 
than that they lived, and sinned, and died, and perished. 
But concerning all God's people it may be said, that they 
lived, were converted, preserved to the end, and went to 
heaven. 

In the present state, the least part of the saint's worth is 
visible. As the earth is fruitful in plants and flowers, but 
its riches are in mines of precious metal, and the veins of 
marble hidden in its bosom ; true grace appears in sensible 
actions, but its glory is within. The sincerity of aims, the 
purity of affection, the impresses of the Spirit on the heart, 
the interior beauties of holiness, are only seen by God. 
Besides, such is the humility of eminent saints, that the more 
they abound in spiritual treasures, the less they show ; as 
the heavenly bodies, when in nearest conjunction with the 
sun, and fullest of light, make the least appearance to our 
sight. 

The believer's thoughts are as sunbeams, fierce as glowing 
flame ; discerning and quick as the eagle's piercing eye, and 



54 



BELIEVERS. 



vast as heaven's expanse. Earth rolls beneath, while on the 
rapid wings of faith he flies up to the centre of immortal 
bliss, and basks in the full beams of God's love — but not 
always ! 

The christian life has been compared to a beautiful column, 
whose summit points always to heaven. The innocent and 
real pleasures of this world are the ornaments on its pedestal, 
very pleasing to behold when the eye is near, but which 
should not too long, nor too frequently, detain us from that 
just distance where we can contemplate the whole column, 
and where the little ornaments on its base vanish and dis- 
appear. 

Hast thou passed by the hedge-row at eventide? and has a 
delicious fragrancy been all about thee, and thou knewest not 
whence it came ? Hast thou searched and found the sweet 
violets hidden beneath its leaves, and known that it was 
that which gave its odour to the air around thee? Thus 
should the Christian make sweet the place of his abode 
with the perfume of his good deeds ; and thus, in all humi- 
lity, should he endeavour to remain unnoticed himself. 
When thou seest the hungry fed, and the naked clothed, the 
sick man visited, and the widow comforted — search, and 
thou shalt had the flower whence all this odour arose : thou 
shalt find full often that the Christian hath been there con- 
strained by the love of Christ. Awake, O north wind, and 
come, thou south ; blow upon my garden, that the spices 
thereof may flow out. Cant. iv. 16. But when thou doest 
alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth : 
that thine arms may be in secret : and thy Father which seeth 
in secret, himself shall reward thee openly. Matt. vi. 3. 4. 
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your 
good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. 
Matt. v. 16. 

Some Christians are like decayed milestones ; which 
stand, it is true, in the right road, and bear some traces of 
the proper impression ; but so wretchedly mutilated and 
defaced, that they who go by, can hardly read or know what 
to make of them. 

A very remarkable circumstance is related concerning 



BELIEVERS. 



55 



Monsieur Huet, the learned Bishop of Avanches. During 
the latter years of his life, his genius and memory gradually 
failed ; but two or three hours before his death, being then 
in the ninety -first year of his age, his genius revived, his 
memory returned, and he enjoyed all his mental faculties in 
their original vigour. So, with the people of God, faith, 
hope, love, joy, and other gracious fruits of the Spirit, may 
seem to decline ; but before a saint expires, they all flourish 
again, in as great or greater liveliness than ever. God 
does not take away his children until he has given them a 
lightening before death. 

The design of God is to make every saint like Christ : this 
was resolved from eternity. Rom. viii. 29. jN^ow, as the 
limner looks on the person whose picture he would take, 
and draws his lines to answer him with the nearest similitude 
that may be ; so doth God look on Christ as the archetype 
to which he will conform the saint, in suffering, in grace, 
and in glory ; yet so, that Christ hath the pre-eminence in 
all. Every saint must suffer, because Christ suffered : 
Christ must not have a delicate body under a crucified head, 
yet never any suffered, or could, what he endured. Christ 
is holy, and therefore so shall every saint be, but in an in- 
ferior degree. An image cut in clay cannot be so exact as 
that which is engraved in gold. 

A Christian is like the rose that drinks the dew as the sun- 
beam opens all its folds, then sheds a grateful fragrance on 
the wings of every gentle breeze which blows across it. 
Like also the rose, which spreads its varied colours to the 
sight of each beholding eye, proclaiming thus His glory ; the 
glory of Him who sustains the shining sun, and sends refresh- 
ing morn and evening dew. So, the believer drinking of 
the flowing streams of love divine, the pure heart-cheering 
promises of grace, with generous heart and bounteous hand, 
diffuses blessings like a fragrance around him, and blesses 
the place where he dwells. 

Even as it was with Christ, the Jews rolled a great stone 
upon him, and, as they thought, it was impossible he should 
rise again ; but an angel came and rolled away the stone, 
and he arose in a most triumphant manner. So shall it be 



56 



BELIEVERS. 



with the people of God ; their good name lies oft buried, a 
stone of obloquy and reproach is rolled upon them ; but, at 
the day of judgment, not an angel, but God himself, will 
roll away the stone, and they shall come forth from among 
the pots, where they have been blacked and sullied, as the 
wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with 
yellow gold. Now it is, that many of these are called the 
troublers of Israel, seditious, factious, malignants, rebellious, 
and what not. But a day is shortly coming, when God him- 
self will proclaim their innocency ; for the name of a saint is 
precious in God's esteem ; it is like a statue of gold, which 
the polluted breath of men cannot stain ; and though the 
wicked may throw dust upon it, yet as God will wipe away 
tears from the eyes of his people, so he will wipe off the dust 
that lies upon their good names ; and a happy day must 
that needs be, when God himself shall be the saint's com- 
purgator. 

Mrs. Willet made a query unto her husband Dr. Willet, 
then lying on his deathbed, touching the mutual knowledge 
that the saints in glory have one of another. Such another 
question having been proposed to Luther, he answered, 
(unto which Chemnitius and many others do subscribe,) that 
as Adam, in the estate of innocency, when God first pre- 
sented Eve unto him, whom he had never seen before, asked 
not whence she came, but said, This is bone of my bone, and 
flesh of my flesh ; even so the saints of God in heaven, 
beautifully illuminated with knowledge beyond Adam's 
in his first condition, shall know those not only whom here 
they knew not, but even those whom before they never saw. 

To a discerning eye there will ever be that in the true 
believer's walk and conversation which will distinguish him 
from the mere professor, who apes his language and man- 
ners. The difference will be that between a studied and 
natural movement. The believer, in his most careless course, 
will evidence his heavenly origin; the other his vile and 
earthly nature still unchanged. So a race-horse is graceful 
in his swiftest pace, and, though pushed to his utmost speed, 
will not be awkward, because that would be unnatural to him, 
and a denial of his breed. A cart-horse might perhaps be 



BELIEVERS. 



57 



taught to play tricks in the riding-school, and might prance 
and curvet like his betters, but at some unlucky time would 
be sure to betray the baseness of his original. 

Amidst the desolation which seems to overspread the face 
of nature at the approach of winter, all trees do not equally 
participate in it. Some are by habit evergreens, and retain 
a perennial verdure. And what a happy emblem do these 
afford us of the manner in which God preserves the graces 
and virtues of his people, still nourishing and green, as it 
were, when all around them is barren and desolate ! Noah, 
Joseph, Daniel, and many besides, perhaps in every age of 
the world, have been thus suffered to stand as illustrious 
monuments of holiness : men perfect in their generations, 
whilst the people among whom they lived were grievously 
corrupt. It is to be remembered, then, that those who would 
resemble them, who would flourish like the fir-tree, or the 
laurel, amidst the storms and frosts of winter, must have no 
fellowship with an evil and adulterous generation ; for it is 
written, " The Lord hath set apart him that is godly for him- 
self," and he only is pronounced " blessed, who walketh not 
in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of 
sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful ; whose delight 
is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates in his law day 
and night." This man shall be an evergreen indeed. To 
him alone the promise belongs — " He shall be like a tree 
planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit 
in his season : his leaf also shall not wither ; and whatsoever 
he doeth shall prosper." — Light from the West. 

The true believer who belongs to Christ cannot any lon- 
ger be subdued, and held under the dominion of sin. He is 
not a conquered man, but one who is, and must be, " more 
than conqueror" under the " Captain of his salvation." 
Every renewed person is like a soldier in an army which is 
crowned with victories ; and under a general who is leading 
it on to certain conquest, which, though it is worsted in an 
occasional skirmish, yet succeeds in the regular engagement, 
and remains master of the field. But the unbeliever, who 
is without union with Christ, is like one of an army that has 
been continually beaten and disgraced, which has no conn- 



58 



BELIEVERS. 



dence in its commander, and is therefore dispirited witli the 
certainty of continual defeat. 

Mercury's appearances (like those of our moon) are vari- 
ous, according to his situation in respect of the sun. Some- 
times he seems quite dark ; at others, falcated, or horned ; 
and sometimes shining fully, or with an hemisphere entirely 
illuminated. In the present stages of spiritual experience, 
the believer's interior comfort, and his exterior lustre, greatly 
depend on the position of his heart towards the uncreated 
Sun of Eighteousness. How obscure and benighted are our 
views, and how languid our exercise of grace, when an un- 
believing, a worldly, or a careless spirit interrupts our walk 
with God ! But if the outgoings of our souls are to him, 
and if the in-pourings of his blessed influences be felt, we 
glow, we kindle, we burn, we shine. This maybe called 
(to borrow an astronomical phrase) our superior conjunction 
with the sun ; and at those distinguished seasons of peace 
and joy in the Holy Ghost, 

" Clearly we see and win our way, 
Shining unto the perfect day, 
And more than conquer all.'' 

The solar light and heat on Venus are estimated to be 
four times greater than on the planet inhabited by us. 
Why ? Because her distance from the source of both is 
considerably less than ours. In like manner, bright evi- 
dences and warm experiences of our interest in Christ, and 
of the work of his Spirit upon our souls, are generally the 
blessed consequences of living near to God, and of walking 
closely with him, in all holy conversation, prayer, and 
watchful godliness. The joy and liveliness of grace (though 
not grace itself) may be sinned away. Spiritual comfort is 
a tender plant, and requires much delicacy of treatment. To 
be triumphant and alert in the ways of God, you must take 
equal heed of wandering, and of slumbering. 

We will suppose that some opulent person makes the 
tour of Europe. If his money fall short, he comforts him- 
self with reflecting that he has a sufficient stock in the bank, 
which he can draw out at any time by writing to his cashiers. 
This is just the case, spiritually, with God's elect. They 



BLINDNESS, SPIRITUAL. 



59 



are travellers in a foreign land, remote from home. Their 
treasure is in heaven, and God himself is their banker. 
When their graces seem to be almost spent and exhausted, 
when the barrel of meal and cruise of oil appear to be 
failing, they need but draw upon God by prayer and faith, 
and humble waiting. The Holy Spirit will honour their 
bill at sight ; and issue to them, from time to time, sufficient 
remittances to carry them to their journey's end. 



aSlmlmess, Spiritual 

The eagle, before he setteth upon the hart, rolleth himself 
in the sand, and then fiieth at the stag's head, and, by flutter- 
ing his wings, so dusts his eyes that he can see nothing, and 
so striketh him with his talons where he listeth. Now as the 
sand and the dust with this eagle, so the devil fllleth his 
wings with earthly desires, and sensual pleasures, wherewith, 
after he hath put out the eyes of the carnal man, he dealeth 
with him at his pleasure. Mercury could not kill Argus 
till he had cast him into a sleep, and with an enchanted rod 
closed his eyes ; and the devil cannot hurt any man, till he 
has lulled him asleep in security. — Spencer. 

When Xeuxes drew his masterpiece, and Nicostratus fell 
into admiration of the rareness thereof, highly commending 
the exquisiteness of the work, there stood by a rich ignorant 
man who would needs know what he had discovered worthy 
of so great applause ; to whom Nicostratus made this answer, 
" My friend, couldest thou see with my eyes, thou wouldest 
soon see cause enough to wonder as well as I do." Thus it 
is that the dear children of God have inexhaustible treasure, 
even in the midst of their poverty ; transcendent dignity in 
the midst of their disgrace ; height of tranquillity in the' 
very depth of tribulation ; their pulse and locusts relish 
better than all the glutton's delicious fare ; their sheepskins, 
goatskins, and camel's hair wear finer then all their purple 



60 



BLINDNESS, SPIRITUAL. 



and soft raiment ; the world's hate makes them happier than 
all the applauses of the Capitol. Now the sensual, carnal 
naturalist sees none of all this, he perceives not the things 
of the Spirit ; neither indeed can he, for they are spiritually 
discerned ; no man knows them, but he that hath them. 
— Ibid. 

It is the misfortune of some to be afflicted with that 
kind of defective sight which prevents them from seeing to 
an ordinary distance; they are unable to distinguish the 
most towering and colossal objects if placed at a short re- 
move, while the merest atom brought close to the eye is 
magnified as with a microscope. An affliction analogous 
to this in the moral sight, but pregnant with incomparably 
greater danger, is the universal malady of mankind ; and 
our Lord insists on the urgency of its removal. He finds 
them mistaking phantoms for realities, and realities for 
phantoms ; calling an atom a world, and a world an atom ; 
practising on themselves an endless succession of delusions ; 
and he gives them the alternative of a remedy, or death. 
He approaches them while gazing on the near prospectus 
of time , and by raising and extending the point of sight he 
adds eternity to the view, and leaves them lost in the con- 
templation of a boundless eternity. — Harris. 

Worldly men want the faculty by which religious truths 
are apprehended : and unless a thing is apprehended by 
its appropriate faculty, it cannot suitably affect us. If we 
see and handle a fine fruit, we may be pleased with its 
shape, its colour, and its smell. But unless we taste it, we 
have had no notion of the real, peculiar, and distinctive 
excellence of the thing. A deaf man may behold a grand 
display of orchestral arrangements, and musical perform- 
ers, and think it an imposing sight. But the thing intended 
by all this — the end of all this apparatus — the melodious en- 
chantment — the harmonious sound, is still a stranger to 
his soul. Here, then, is the secret of that otherwise inexpli- 
cable riddle, that man, rational, immortal man, should value 
time above eternity, his body above his soul, the slightest fa- 
vour from a fellow creature, above all the mercies and benefits 
which God can pour upon him. For the one class of ob- 



BLESSINGS. 



61 



jects, all men have the appropriate and discerning' sense : 
and for the other, most men have not that sense. Hu- 
man and temporal things are apprehended and taken in by 
the ordinary exercise of our natural faculties, and finding 
in all men those natural faculties, they do not fail to make 
their suitable impressions. Eternal and divine things are, 
on the other hand, addressed to a faculty above nature, a 
principle dead or dormant in the great mass of mankind ; 
and consequently, fall pointless and powerless upon the 
mind ; and are like sounds to the deaf, or light and colours to 
the blind. 



When I see leaves drop from their trees in the be- 
ginning of autumn, just such, think I, is the friendship 
of the world; just such are the comforts and joys of this 
life. While the sap of maintenance lasts, my friends 
will swarm in abundance, my joys and comforts will abide 
with me; but when the sap ceases, the spring which 
supplies them fails ; in the winter of my need they leave 
me naked. And those few leaves which I see falling, re- 
mind me of the coming winds, and rains, when those trees 
shall be wholly stripped of their leaves ; and of that sea- 
son, that evil day, when all that administers to the gaiety 
and comfort of life shall fall from under me. Happy he 
who has that " friend," which, saith the Scriptures, " stick- 
eth closer than a brother," and that peace, and those 
pleasures, which are at God's right hand, and which shall 
never fade away. 

Man is placed on an arena, with a thousand objects 
which seek to captivate his attention. He is a candidate for 
happiness, which must be infallibly determined by his 
choice. The world offers to him its attractions and prizes. 
Religion seeks to woo him with her present joys, and her 
hope of glory. We should consider this world as a great 



62 



BLESSINGS. 



mart of commerce, where Providence exposes to our view 
various commodities, riches, ease, tranquillity, fame, in- 
tegrity, knowledge. Everything is marked at a settled 
price. Our time, our labour, our ingenuity, are so much 
ready money, which we are to lay out to the best advan- 
tage. Examine, compare, choose, reject, but stand to 
your own judgment ; and do not, like children, when you 
have purchased one thing, repine that you do not possess 
another which you did not purchase. Such is the force 
of well-regulated industry, that a steady and vigorous ex- 
ertion of our faculties, directed to one end, will generally 
insure success. Would you, for instance, be rich 1 Do you 
think that single point worth the sacrificing everything 
else to ? You may then be rich. Thousands have become 
so from the lowest beginnings, by toil, and patient diligence 
and attention to the minutest articles of expense and profit. 
But you must give up the pleasures of leisure, of a va- 
cant mind, of a free, unsuspicious temper. If you pre- 
serve your integrity, it must be a coarse-spun and vulgar 
honesty. Those high and lofty notions of morals which 
you brought with you from the schools must be considera- 
bly lowered, and mixed with the baser alloy of a jealous 
and worldly-minded prudence. You must learn to do 
hard, if not unjust things ; and for the nice embarrassments 
of a delicate and ingenuous spirit, it is necessary for you 
to get rid of them as fast as possible. You must shut your 
heart against the Muses, and be content to feed your 
understanding with plain household truths. In short, 
you must not attempt to enlarge your ideas, or polish 
your taste, or refine your sentiments ; but must keep on in 
one beaten track, without turning aside either to the right 
hand or to the left. " But I cannot "submit to drudgery 
like this. I feel a spirit above it." 'Tis well : be above it 
then ; only do not repine that you are not rich. Is know- 
ledge the pearl of price ? That too may be purchased, by 
steady application and long solitary hours of study and re-' 
flection. Bestow these, and you shall be wise. But (says 
the man of letters) what a hardship is it, that many an il- 
literate fellow, who cannot construe the motto of the arms 



BLESSINGS. 



63 



on his coach, shall raise a fortune and make a figure, while 
I have little more than the necessaries of life ! Et tibi 
magna satis ! Was it in order to raise a fortune that you 
consumed the sprightly hours of youth in study and retire- 
ment ? Was it to be rich, that you grew pale over the 
midnight lamp, and distilled the sweetness from the Greek 
and Eoman spring ? You have then mistaken your path, 
and ill employed your industry. What reward have I 
then for all my labours ? What reward ! A cultivated 
mind, and a conscious dignity of superior intelligence ; 
and what reward can you ask besides ? But is it not 
some reproach upon the economy of Providence that such 
a one, who is a mean dirty fellow, should have amassed 
wealth enough to buy half a nation ? Not in the least. 
He made himself a mean dirty fellow for that very end. 
He has paid his health, his liberty for it ; and will you 
envy him his bargain ? Will you hang your head, and 
blush in his presence, because he outshines you in equipage 
and show ? Say to yourself, I have not these things, it is 
true, but it is because I have not sought, because I have 
not desired them ; I have chosen my lot, I am content 
and satisfied. But, whatever you have sought of this 
world's attainments, the time may come when you may 
awake to the fact of your utter poverty of the " unsearch- 
able riches of Christ," and that you have gained none of 
the prizes of the world to come. To be consistent you 
must say, Well, be it so. I have not sought, but neglected 
them. I cannot expect to be possessed of that, to obtain 
which, demands labour and pains. This has been bestowed 
upon other objects, and I have my reward; I reap that 
which I have sown. I made my choice, and must not com- 
plain. In saying this, you will be only speaking the lan- 
guage of common sense. 

We would think that beggar intolerably impudent that 
coming to our door to ask an alms, and when we have 
bestowed upon him some broken bread and meat, yet, 
like those impudent persons the psalmist speaks of, that 
grudge and grumble if they be not satisfied, if they have 
not their own will, he should not hold himself contented, 



64 



BIGOTS. BACKSLIDERS. 



unless he might have one of our best dishes from the table. 
But this is the case of very many amongst us. We come all 
as so many beggars to God's mercy-seat. And God gives 
us abundance of many good things, as life, liberty, health 
of body ; yet we cannot be quiet, nor think ourselves well, 
unless we be clothed in purple, and fare deliciously every 
day, as such and such do ; not considering, in the mean 
time, many that are below us, and above us too, wanting 
those things which we comfortably enjoy. — Spencer. 



Bigots are stiff, straitened, and confined; like Egyp- 
tian mummies, which are bound round with thousands of 
yards of ribbon. 

Bigots are like some trees that grow by the sea-shore ; 
which do not spread their branches equally on all sides, 
but are blown awry, and stand entirely one way. 

Young converts are generally great bigots. When we 
are first converted to God, our brotherly affection too often 
resembles the narrowness of a river at its first setting out. 
But, as we advance nearer to the great ocean of all 
good, the channel widens, and our hearts expand, more 
and more ; until death perfectly unites us to the source of 
uncreated love. 

For wolves to devour sheep, is no wonder : but for sheep 
to devour one another, is monstrous and astonishing/ 



The case of backsliders is most dangerous. A tree may 
be stripped of its foliage, and cast its leaves at the fall of the 
year, but it awaits the time of revival, the time of spring. 
But his condition is infinitely more mournful than any- 



BACKSLIDERS. 



65 



thing which is presented by the falling leaf, and the barren 
and naked branches of the trees of the forest. The forest 
will burst forth into fresh verdure, under the genial influ- 
ence of spring ; but who can say that those hearts will ever 
flourish again in the beauty of holiness, which have long 
lain withering under the curse of sin and unbelief? He 
only who knows all hearts can determine how far a sinner 
may go till he places himself beyond the hope of mercy ; 
but no man can receive the grace of God in vain, and to 
every man the warning voice of God is addressed, " Now 
also the axe is laid at the root of the tree ; every tree there- 
fore which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and 
cast into the fire." — Matt. iii. 10. 

A church is sometimes astounded by the fall of some pro- 
fessor in it : this is the fruit, not the seed or beginning, of 
backsliding. So a man is laid on a sick bed, but the disor- 
der has only now arrived at its crisis, it has for some time 
been working in his system, and has at last burst out and 
laid him low. So the sin of departing from God, and 
secretly declining, has been going on while the profession 
has still been maintained — the process of backsliding has 
been working silently, yet surely, until a temptation has at 
last opened the way for its bursting forth, to the scandal of 
God's people and true religion. " He that despiseth small 
things shall fall by little and little." In the sight of God 
the man was fallen before, we only now have first discovered 
it. 

The beginnings of declensions from Christ and the gospel 
are deep and hidden, because oftentimes they are carried 
on by very secret and imperceptible degrees. Some men are 
plunged into apostasy by some notorious crimes, or by the 
power of some great temptations. The fall of such men 
from their profession is like the dying of a man by a fever ; 
the first incursion of the disease, with its whole progress, is 
manifest. The spiritual decays of others is like an hectic 
distemper, which at first is hardly known, and in its pro- 
gress hardly cured. Small negligences and omissions are 
admitted, and the soul is habituated to them, and so a pro- 
gress is made to greater evils . Besides, revolters and back 

F 



66 



BODY, 



sliders do their utmost endeavours to hide the beginnings of 
their falls from themselves and others. By false and corrupt 
reasonings they labour to ' blind their own eyes, and to hide 
these evils from themselves.' Their own hearts seduce them, 
before they 4 feed on ashes.' Like a consumption which 
continues to gain ground, while the patient is unwilling to 
believe the truth of his case till it is too late; such, too often, 
is the fatal issue of backsliding. 



There is a parable of a woman, who travailing with child 
brought forth twins, and both children being presented to 
her, she falls deeply and fondly in love with the one, but is 
careless and disrespectful of the other. This she will nurse 
herself, but that is put forth ; her love grows up with the 
child she kept herself ; she decks it fine, she feeds it choicely ; 
but at last, by overmuch pampering of it, the child surfeits, 
becomes mortally sick, and when it was dying she remem- 
bers herself, and sends to look after the other child that was 
at nurse, to the end she might now cherish it. But when 
the messenger came, she finds it dying likewise, and, exa- 
mining the truth, she understands that, through the mother's 
carelessness and neglect to look after it, the poor child was 
starved. Thus was the fond partial mother, to her great 
grief, sorrow, and shame, deprived of both the hopeful babes 
at once — the fruit of her weak and foolish choice/ And 
thus, every Christian is this mother, the children are our 
body and soul ; the former of these it is that men and 
women fall deeply and fondly in love with, whilst indeed 
they are careless and neglect the other ; this they dress and 
feed ; nothing is too good, or too dear for it ; but at the last 
the body comes, by some means or other, to its deathbed, 
when there is very little or no hope of life. Then men begin 
to remember the soul, and would think of some course to 
save it ; the minister is sent for in all haste to look after it ; 
but, alas, he finds it in part dead, in part dying ; and the very 



BODY. 



67 



truth is, the owner, through neglect and carelessness, hath 
starved the soul, and it is ready to go to hell before the body 
is fit for the grave ; and so the foolish fond Christian, to his 
eternal shame and sorrow, loseth both his body and soul for 
ever. — Spencer. 

The Jews have a story of a woman that took two children 
to nurse, the one very mean, deformed, crooked, blind, and 
not likely to live long ; the other as goodly a child as may 
be, beautiful, well-favoured, and likely to be long lived. Now 
this foolish woman, bestowing all her care and diligence, 
pains and attendance, upon the worst child, never so much as 
minding the best, must needs be ignorant and very foolish 
in so bad a choice, and of so great neglect. Thus it is, that the 
most of men are herein to be reproved, who, having taken 
two children to nurse, viz. their body and their soul, and 
well knowing that the soul is infinitely better than the body, 
more beautiful, and of longer continuance, yet like the fool- 
ish nurse they bestow all their care, labour, and pains for the 
worst ; they make provision for the flesh, pamper the body 
which must ere long lie down in the dust, and starve the 
soul which doth and must live for ever. — Ibid. 

It is said that swine, especially the wild boar, are of 
that strange quickness of scent, that if the huntsman means 
to shoot him, he must take the wind of him, or else he will 
wind him out and begone. Now, on the contrary, they are 
not so sensible of the ill savour of a dunghill, nor the stench 
of mud and mire, but rather take delight to lie wallowing 
therein, esteeming it as a great recreation, and refreshing 
unto them. This is a figure of a filthy, foul sinner, who will 
fly a thousand miles from the perils and dangers of his body ; 
so that he may sleep in a whole skin, he cares for no more ; 
but, in the mean time, takes delight and pleasure in those 
pollutions and uncleannesses which defile his soul. — 
Ibid. 

There was a master of a family, who committed the cus- 
tody of his orchard unto two of his servants, whereof the 
one was blind, and the other lame. The lame servant being 
in love with the beauty of the fruit, presently told his blind 
fellow, that if he had but the use of his limbs and his feet 

f 2 



68 



CENSURE. 



to walk as he had, it should not be long ere he would be 
master of those apples. The blind man answered, he had 
as good a mind to enjoy them as himself, and if his eyes had 
not failed him, they had not rested all that while upon the 
tree ; wherefore they both agreed to unite their strength, 
and join their forces together ; the whole blind man took 
the well-sighted lame man upon his shoulders, and so they 
reached the apples, and conveyed their master's fruit away ; 
but being impeached for their fault, and examined by their 
master, each one framed his own excuse. The blind man said, 
he could not so much as see the tree whereon they grew, 
and therefore it was plain he could have none of them. The 
lame man said he could not be suspected, because he had 
no limbs to climb, or to stand to reach them ; but 
now the wise master perceiving the subtle craft of the 
two false servants, put them as they were, one upon the 
other's shoulders, and so punished them both together. 
Thus it is, that sin is neither of the body without the soul, 
nor of the soul without the body; but it is a common act 
both of body and soul ; they are like Simeon and Levi, bro- 
thers and partners in every mischief ; like Hippocrates' 
twins, they do commonly will and nill the same thing ; 
therefore God in his judgment will punish both body and 
soul together, if they be not repaired and redeemed by 
Christ. — Ibid. 



Mercury, though scarcely discernible, is sometimes seen 
like a dark spot on the sun's disc, as he passes between him 
and us. The transit of this planet is said to have been 
observed by Gassendi in the year 1632. Thus the illumined 
side of Mercury commonly eludes our notice ; but his dark 
hemisphere excites our attention, and strikes our view. We 
too frequently act a similar part by each other. A fellow 
Christian, or any conspicuous character, may shine unre- 



CENSURE. 



69 



garded ; whereas, if his brightness becomes in any respect 
clouded and overcast, our telescopes are up, our eyes in full 
employ, our tongues proclaim his defects ; and it is well if 
magnifying and multiplying glasses do not lend their assist- 
ance on the occasion. 

To those who have hitherto been verily guilty concerning 
their brother, who have thoughtlessly and unprofitably spent 
many an hour in either repeating or listening with delight to 
a tale of scandal, and who have been thought vastly clever 
and amusing from their sharp sayings about their neigh- 
bours, the following little incident may serve as a useful 
hint : — A. man walking through the street had a wallet or sack 
on his shoulders, with a sort of pocket at each end ; one part 
hung down before and the other behind him ; some little boys 
ran after him, and slily put feathers and rags into the hind 
pocket, but the man was not aware of the matter. Now, thought 
I, if he were to turn the wallet he would see what sort of stuff 
he was carrying, and how ridiculous his appearance. This, 
then, is just what the world does : we carry a wallet ; in the 
pocket before we put our neighbour's faults, which are con- 
tinually before our eyes, and in the hind pocket we put our 
own faults, and therefore know not how they are laughed at. 
Could we turn the wallet, we should be silent. When, 
therefore, you find yourself talking of others, turn the wal- 
let. — Light from the West. 

When the tongue scatters its deadly poison so openly 
abroad as to obtain for the individual the character of a slan- 
derer, people are on their guard ; they expect bitter waters 
from such a fountain, and when the foul stream splashes over 
a honeycomb, (a pure character,) it will not in any man's 
estimation detract from the inherent sweetness of the mass. 
But there is another species of malignity, which, instead of 
bubbling out in open day, warning all to stand aloof from 
its contamination, glides steadily, in darkness, to deposit its 
spawn, leaving the unsuspected brood to come forth in due 
time, and prosecute the work of treacherous demolition. 
This is the moth. Forgetting "whoso privily slander- 
eth his neighbour, him will I cut off," he whispereth the 
tale, guards it with injunction, to caution and silence, and 



70 



CHURCH. 



does the very work of his prototype the moth, as though the 
lesson had been deliberately taken from that covert destroyer. 
— Charlotte Elizabeth. 

Luther said in his time, " the thief wrongs one, the adul- 
terer wrongs two, the slanderer wrongs three, but I think 
four — himself, the person abused, the bystander, and the 
precious name of God/' 

It is commonly known, that scarabs and flies swarm to the 
galled part of a poor packhorse, and there sit feeding upon 
that worst part of the flesh ; not once 7neddling with the 
other sound part of his skin. Even thus do malicious tongues 
of detractors ; if a man have any infirmity in his person or 
actions, that they will be sure to gather unto, and dwell 
upon ; whereas, his commendable parts, and well deservings, 
are passed by without mention, without regard ; and what 
do they get by it ? It must needs be a filthy creature that 
is always feeding on stinking carrion. — Spencer. 



There is much waste ground in the world that hath no 
power ; our globe can tell us of a great part that hath no 
inhabitant, no name; but a vineyard was never without a 
possessor. Come we into some wild Indian forest, all fur- 
nished with goodly trees, we know not whether man were 
there ; God's hand, we are sure, hath been there, perhaps not 
man's ; but if you come into a well-dressed vineyard or gar- 
den, there you may see the hillocks equally swelling, the 
stakes pitched in a just height and distance, the vines hand- 
somely pruned, the hedge-rows cut, the weeds cast out; 
now we are ready to conclude, as the philosopher did when 
he found figures, here hath been a man, yea, and a good 
husbandman too. Thus it is, that as God's Israel, God's 
church is a vineyard, so we may safely conclude that it is 
God's vineyard, God's church, God's in a more special man- 
ner. It is true that there is a universal providence of God 



CHURCH. 



71 



over all the world ; but there is a more especial hand and 
eye of God over his church ; in it God taketh a peculiar 
interest. Solomon may let out his vineyard to keepers, but 
God keeps his church in his own hands ; he may use the 
help of men, but it must be as tools, as his agents, he works 
by them, they cannot work but by him ; so that, in spite of 
the gates of hell, his church, his vine, shall nourish. Even 
so, " return, O God of hosts, look down from heaven, and 
visit this vineyard of ours, thy church, which thy right hand 
hath planted, and the branch which thou hast made strong 
for thyself." — Spexcer. 

A physician letteth a man blood by the application of 
leeches, and they suck much blood from him ; but the phy- 
sician's ends are one thing, and the leeches' ends are another; 
the leeches draw blood from the man only to satisfy them- 
selves ; but the physician letteth the man blood to cure his dis- 
temper . Such is the difference between God's ends and wicked 
men's ends in the persecution of his people. God, by suffering 
his own church and people to be persecuted, it is to purge away 
their evil distempers of sin and security, or whatsoever it is that 
may offend, that thereby he may make his people better by 
their afflictions ; but wicked and ungodly men, by troubling 
the church, it is to destroy them, and root them out, that 
they may be no more a people, to accomplish their own 
wicked designs, and testify their rage and malice upon them 
in their utter ruin and overthrow. These are their ends, but 
God hath other ends ; as Joseph said to his brethren, you 
did intend me hurt, but God did intend me good ; so it may 
be said concerning all ungodly wicked men, they do intend 
evil against the church and people of God, but God intends 
his people's good ; they intend to persecute and destroy, but 
he intends (maugre all their contrivements whatsoever) to 
preserve, keep, and continue his church to the end of the 
world.— Ibid. 

The Samaritan's Inn was called " Open Doors," because 
it gave entertainment to all strangers. — Luke x. 30, 34. In 
St. Peter's sheet were all sorts of creatures, four-footed 
beasts, and creeping things. — Acts x. 12. The net mentioned 
in St. Matthew's gospel caught all kind of fish. — Chaj:). 



72 



CHURCH. 



xiii. 47. Ahasuerus' feast welcomed all comers. — Esth. i. 4. 
Such is the gospel church in its amplitude ; the prophetical 
gospel was hedged in and limited within the pale of Palestine ; 
but the apostolical gospel is spread over the face of the whole 
earth ; then it was a light under a bushel, now the light of 
the world ; then the prophets sang, " In Jury is God known ; 
his name is great in Israel;" but now we sing, Praise the Lord, 
all ye nations : then the name of Christ was as ointment 
kept close in a box ; but now it is " an ointment poured 
out." Then the church was " a garden enclosed, a fountain 
sealed up ;" and now it is a springing well that overflows the 
world to renew it, as Noah's flood did to destroy it. — 
Ibid. 

While Israel marched through the wilderness, the blackest 
night had a pillar of fire, and the brightest day a pillar of 
cloud. So in this world, things never go so well with God's 
Israel, but they have still something to groan under; nor 
so ill, but they have still comfort to be thankful for. In the 
church militant, as in the ark of old, there are both a rod, 
and a pot of manna. 

The church, when religion lives in it, becomes terrible as 
an army with banners. — Cant. vi. 4. Upon life order will 
be sure to ensue, and with that goes majesty, and with that 
terror. There is an awful majesty, you know, sits in the 
face of a man, while he lives, and walks forth as God's vice- 
gerent of this lower world ; but if he once become a carcass, 
the fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field, and even 
the very worms of the earth, dare prey upon him. So it is 
with the church ; when it is dead, when religion is become 
a mere piece of empty, spiritless formality, this makes it 
look but just like other parts of the world ; they will say of 
it, what are they better than we ? The religion of Christians, 
if you look only to the external formalities of it, hath not so 
much of a superiority or higher excellency, but that it will 
be a disregarded thing with them who can easily distinguish 
between vivid religion and dead. But when the Spirit of the 
living God puts forth itself in discernible effects ; and such 
as carry an awful aspect with them unto the common reason 
of men, religion then grows a venerable thing, and the pur- 



CHURCH. 



73 



pose of opposition and hostility is checked and counter- 
manded, and even quite laid aside. 

Take a mass of quicksilver, let it fall to the floor, and it 
will split itself into a vast number of distinct globules. Ga- 
ther them up, and put them together again, and they will 
coalesce into one body, as before. Thus, God's elect below 
are sometimes crumbled and distinguished into various par- 
ties, though they are all, in fact, members of one and the 
same mystic body. But when taken up from the world, and 
put together in heaven, they will constitute one glorious 
undivided church, for ever and ever. 

When Lysander the Spartan paid a visit to King Cyrus, 
he was particularly struck with the elegance and order, the 
variety and magnificence, of Cyrus' gardens. Cyrus, no less 
charmed with the taste and judgment of his guest, told him, 
with visible emotions of pleasure, " These lovely walks, with 
all their beauty of disposition and vastness of extent, were 
planned by myself; and almost every tree, shrub, and 
flower, which you behold, was planted by my own hand." 
Now, when we take a view of the church, which is at once 
the house and garden of the living God ; that church which 
the Father loved, for which the Son became a man of 
sorrows, and which the Holy Spirit descends from heaven 
in all his plenitude of converting power to cultivate 
and build anew ; — when we survey this living paradise 
and this mystic edifice, of which such glorious things are 
spoken, and on which such glorious privileges are conferred, 
must we not acknowledge thy sovereign hand, O uncre- 
ated Love, drew the plan of this spiritual Eden? Thy hand, 
Almighty Power, set every living tree, every true believer, 
in the courts of the Lord's house. Thy converted people 
are all righteous ; they shall inherit the land for ever, even 
the branches of thy planting, the work of thy hands, that 
thou mayest be glorified. 

Though the church of God has been designated by many 
beautiful and apt similes, yet there is room for many more. 
Compare the people of God, while on their earthly pilgri- 
mage, to a moving train. We see it headed by Adam, who 
is quickly followed by a loving partner, and devoted chil- 
dren. W'hile we pause, and drop a tear r the fatal con- 



74 



CHURCH. 



duct of Cain, we behold the numbers increase, and the 
limits extend. It fluctuates — deserters are seen, and only a 
little solitary company remain, to tell us that truth has not 
taken her final leave of this polluted world. At length, 
bursting out with all the grandeur and sublimity of an 
Enoch, we see the lovely procession extending. And, 
though jDassing onward, we behold the dark cloud of futurity 
for ever, as it were grasping the leaders from our visionary 
hold ; we see others enlisting, and a glorious ray of divine 
pleasure beaming throughout the increasing army. But 
enriched heaven causes a mournful breach. Enoch is gone! 
The awful deluge reduces the procession to eight ! But now 
the standard-bearers advance. And while we picture in 
our mind's eye the achievements of hoary patriarchs, faith- 
ful prophets, and devoted kings, we are naturally led down 
to the gospel era. The majestic train now is headed with all 
the grandeur of the second Adam. The contest against the 
powers of darkness is begun. Idols bow, temples crumble 
into dust. The horrors and treachery of priestcraft are laid 
bare, and madly seek a covert for their shame. Judaism is 
dethroned. In a word, the trembling pinnacle of human 
guilt seems to totter on its weakened pedestal, and gradually 
sinks into the chilling horrors of perpetual night, before the 
victorious arm of Immanuel. So with all its changes, down 
to the present day. What a period is this ! The swellings 
of Jordan now overflow its ponderous banks, and the whole 
earth receives the influences of its streams. Who are the 
leaders now ? Who bear the colours ! Who sound the gos- 
pel cry ? Who compose the train ? The powerful and 
lengthened army now seems to wield the sword of success. 
We see with delight, and hear with astonishment, the vic- 
tory of the Redeemer's arms. But methinks I see some 
backsliders in the train. They shrink and yield an easy 
victim at the sight of Satan. How ill their armour fits 
them ! Such we see falling into the chaos of eternal perdi- 
tion, when about to join their fellows in triumphantly enter- 
ing the portals of Jerusalem. — The Pulpit. 

Let the head of a family ascend a lofty eminence, and 
looking on hill and dale and river, and all the beauteous 



CHURCH. 



75 



prospect which is poured in rich profusion beneath his feet, 
suddenly his eye is arrested by his own peaceful dwelling, 
where he has enjoyed the tender charities of love, where 
the partner of his bosom and little ones are nestled ; it is 
here his affections are drawn, here he dwells in imagination 
with a fondness, an interest, which creation's beauties cannot 
excite in him. So is it with God as it respects his beloved 
Zion. The infinite Jehovah, who has called forth at his 
bidding creation's glories — the great Father of his family, 
which he has adopted in Christ Jesus, surveys creation — 
looks down upon the world, but sees no object round the 
spacious globe from east to west, from pole to pole, so fair 
in his divine esteem as Zion is : " This is my rest for ever, 
(saith the Lord ;) here will I dwell." The seat of his desire, 
and palace of his presence, is the Church. 

Forms may vary, splendid establishments for the propa- 
gation of religion may be shaken, but the bush, though fre- 
quently surrounded by the flames, has never been consumed. 
Like the bark in which the Redeemer was once sailing to 
an opposite shore, the winds have beat against her, the 
storms have raged around her, but as in the bark, so Christ 
has been in her, and all has become serene. 

The dependence of the church's vitality upon the hourly 
exercise of Christ's offices as a living Saviour may be thus 
illustrated. Conceive the wheels of nature to be stopped, 
the sun to cease to give its light, the earth and the planets 
to roll their courses, and the great elements of nature to be 
powerless, and deprived of all their virtue. The visible 
creation in which man is placed, would first droop and lan- 
guish ; her exhausted energies would fail her, and she would 
expire. Life, in all her creative and sustaining power, 
would give place, and yield up her dominion to the reign of 
universal death. No less a work of confusion and death 
would ensue in the church, if a suspension of Christ's offices 
were to take place. When he ascended up on high, he 
received the gift of the Spirit, and he is continually pouring- 
it out as the spirit of life, animating and imparting vitality 
to every part of his church. Not a ray of light can shine 
into the heart of any member of his body, but what comes 



76 



CHURCH. 



from the great Prophet of his church. Not a sinner can 
start forth from the grave of spiritual death, without Christ 
is there to give him light and life. Not a prayer or offering 
of whatever kind can come up with acceptance before God, 
without his merits to recommend, and the incense of his 
intercession to purify and perfume it ; while, but for the 
continual exercise of his kingly office, by virtue of which he 
holds the keys of death and hell, his church would be the 
prey of her spiritual enemies, and fall before the powers of 
darkness and spiritual wickedness in high places. Let all 
these offices be suspended. Let there be no spirit of life 
poured out upon the church. Let him close his office as the 
great teacher. Let there be no Saviour by to give life to 
the prisoner, bursting his way from the bands of death. 
Let there be no high priest standing at the right hand of the 
throne. Let " all power which is in heaven and in earth" 
fall from his hands, and let there be no Saviour to watch 
over his people. And what must follow ? This church, 
which is now radiant with light and life, would instantly be 
in darkness, and gasping in death. The progress of gospel 
light would be no more ; conversion ceases — the Redeemer's 
car, travelling in the greatness of his strength to the utter- 
most bounds of the earth, is suddenly arrested in its course. 
In one word, behold the church extinct, and mankind again 
falling before the powers of darkness. 

When we receive summons from any supreme autho- 
rity, the officer of the court seeks us not in idling places, 
he pursues us not into the fields, neither doth he come to 
our sports to warn us, but to our houses, and there reads his 
message as if we were there, because we should be there, 
and then, without any further inquiry departs, fastening the 
script or writ upon the door. In like manner the ministers 
of the gospel are God's ambassadors and God's messengers ; 
God supposeth every man to be at home, and so do they, 
(because, at hours and times set apart for his worship, they 
are presumed to have no houses but his house,) whom they 
shall meet nowhere, no more certainly find, than there. There 
it is that more especially, when " two or three meet together 
in his name," he will be in the midst of them ; there he 



CHURCH. 



77 



will teach them his ways, and there he will give them grace 
too, to walk in his ways ; so true is that of venerable Bede> 
that he that comes not willingly to church, shall one day go 
unwillingly to hell. — Spencer. 

The church may, in many respects, be compared to the 
moon. The moon receives her light from the sun, and then 
she shines forth, and becomes a light unto the world. Yet 
she shines only in the night. But, though exceeding fair 
and bright, she has her spots. She also presents to us her 
various aspects; sometimes she is in the full, and sometimes 
in the wane; sometimes she shines more gloriously, and 
sometimes less, and yet still the same moon. She does not 
always show her light in her full orb ; she sometimes so 
decreaseth, that there seemeth to us not to be any moon ; 
yet she is not then destitute of the sunbeams, though it 
seems otherwise to our sight. And so the church has all 
her light from Christ the sun, and then she shines forth in 
brightness and glory. The sun gives light, but receives 
none ; the moon both gives and receives it : so Christ as 
God hath his light in himself, but as Mediator he has his 
light from the Father to communicate it to the church, that 
the church may give light to the world — " Ye are the light 
of the world" — to enlighten sinners while the night of this 
world lasteth. But, though pure and holy, yet the church in 
herself is not without spots of sin. No saint is without 
blemishes. (1 John i. 8.) And this should humble the most 
glittering saints, to consider that they cannot shine so bright 
in this world, but that their spots may be discernible to 
themselves and others. And, like the moon, she too is seen 
under various states and aspects, and subject to many 
changes. She does not always shine as at full moon, or 
send forth a full brightness, but is sometimes so obscured 
that she hardly appears visible ; she was forced into the 
wilderness, from the face of the dragon and Romish beast : 
yet it is certain the church is always in being. (Rev. 
xii. 6.) Though her enemies can bring her into a narrow 
compass, and drive her into holes, yet we may take comfort 
that, notwithstanding all its various changes and ebbings in 



78 



CHURCH. 



this world, the enemy may as soon change the ordinances of 
the moon as make an utter end of God's church. 

The enemies that exalt themselves against Christ's church 
shall he " as the smoke out of the chimney ;" as Athana- 
sius used to say of Julian the Apostate, that " he was but a 
little cloud which would be quickly blown away." Smoke, 
when it breaks out of a furnace with a horrible blackness, 
threatens to blot out the sun, and to invade and choke up 
all the air, but a little blast of wind scattereth it, and anon 
nothing thereof appears. The Lord overthroweth the church's 
enemies, and protecteth it against the most formidable power, 
sometimes by ordering and arming natural causes to defend 
his church, and to amaze the enemy. Thus the stars in 
their courses are said to fight against Sisera. A mighty 
wind from heaven, beating on their faces, discomfited them, 
as Josephus reports. So the christian armies, under Theo- 
dosius against Eugenius the tyrant, defeated them by winds 
from heaven, which snatched away their weapons out of 
their hands, to make good that promise, " No weapon that 
is formed against thee shall prosper." So the Lord slew the 
enemies of Joshua with hail. And thus the Moabites were 
overthrown by occasion of the sun shining upon the water. 
Sometimes by implanting fantasies and frightful apprehen- 
sions into the minds of the enemy, as into the Midianites 
and the Assyrians. Thus the Lord caused a voice to be 
heard in the temple, before the destruction of Jerusalem, 
warning the faithful to go out of the city. Sometimes by 
the immediate stroke of God upon their bodies, or their con- 
sciences ; thus God gave the churches rest by smiting Herod. 
Thus Maximinius, being smitten with a horrible disease 
in his bowels, confessed it was Christ which overcame him ; 
and Julian, being smitten with an unknown blow, (from 
heaven it is supposed,) confessed that Christ was too hard for 
him ; and another Julian, uncle to the Apostate, for pol- 
luting the Lord's table, had his bowels rotted till they gushed 
out. Sometimes destroying them with their own hands. 
Thus the Lord set every man's sword against his fellow in 
the huge host of the Midianites. So Pilate and ISTero, the 



CHURCH. 



79 



one the murderer of Christ, the other the dedicator of all the 
consequent great persecutions ; both died by their own 
hands, revenging the cause of Christ and his people upon 
themselves. 

The perfection of glory implies an union of all excel- 
lencies in a sovereign degree. The church in the present 
state is compared to the moon. The moon is opaque in her- 
self, and merely reflects from her surface the light of the sun. 
She only receives it also in half its globe, while her light is 
often obscured by the passing clouds. Such is the church 
which, is now only partially illumined, and often darkened for 
a season ; but in the next state it will be filled with light as a 
ball of crystal penetrated by the sunbeams — all glorious in 
holiness, without spot or icrinkle, or any such thing. 

In every corn-field there are plants of sickly as well as of 
luxuriant appearance, supplying a fit emblem of the various 
characters which compose the true church of Christ. 
Some indeed are stunted in their growth by various causes ; 
others ripening into the full measure of the stature of 
Christ, having received a larger measure of the spirit of all 
grace, and enjoyed a more copious effusion of the beams of 
the Sun of Righteousness. Yet all these must be permitted 
to mingle together till the harvest. Each have their sepa- 
rate uses; and as the wise husbandman is content and thank- 
ful if the weeds do not overpower the corn, so the wise 
Christian will be grateful to God that errors both in doctrine 
and practice are not more abounding than they are, being- 
satisfied that in the final issue and separation of the tares 
from the corn, there will be nothing to complain of; but, on 
the contrary, that the purposes of God will work their way 
through all human hypocrisy and weakness, so as to fulfil 
the truth of the gracious promise, Mat. iii. 12. — Light from 
the West. 

The church of believers bears this resemblance to the sea, 
that though always full, it yet has its periodical tides. Twice 
every day at least it pays its tribute of prayer and praise at 
the footstool of its Creator and Sanctifier : and on the Lord's 
day, and at sacramental seasons especially, its affections flow 
forth in his courts with the spring-tide offering of devotion ; 



80 



CHURCH. 



there paying its vows to the Most High, and offering the 
sacrifices of righteousness in all the beauties of holiness, with 
the same fulness of delight, with the same extraordinary 
flow of holy emotion that the sea approaches the shores, and 
flows up to its highest point, when the moon and the sun 
exert their united influence upon its tides.— Ibid. 

A sacred pavilion is now erected in this vale of tears — a 
wondrous, glorious, and incomparable temple. Its pillars 
embrace a world. Its upper story reaches to the stars. Its 
walls are as invincible as Omnipotence. Though heaven 
and earth be shaken, yet its foundations shall stand and re- 
main unmoved. The natural eye cannot see this temple. 
This glorious temple is only visible to the eye of faith. The 
light falls into this temple from above. There, no longer 
groping in the dark, we walk in the light of the seven- 
branched candlestick. It is no longer inquired in this tem- 
ple, " wherewith shall I come before the Lord ?" Here we 
know of an offering that justifies the ungodly. Here, then, 
is no longer any occasion for the exclamation, " Let not God 
speak with us, lest we die." Here we learn exultingly to 
cry " Abba, Father," and to cast our cares like children upon 
the eternal God, who careth for us. The robe with which 
every one here is clothed, is a robe of righteousness. The 
bread that is here broken to us, is the bread of that peace 
which passeth all understanding. The cup of blessing 
which we here partake, is a portion which no one taketh 
from us. The air which is breathed here is the air of para- 
dise. The incense of prayer and intercession kindled here, 
ascends as a sweet savour to the Lord. The songs which 
resound here, have for their burdens, " I have obtained 
mercy !" The preacher's instructions in this temple are, 
" Comfort ye, comfort ye my people." — Krummacher. 

Surely when the Lord shall have accomplished his work 
on Mount Sion, when he shall, by the adversary, as by a 
fan, have purged away the iniquity of Jacob, and taken 
away his sin, he will then return in peace and beauty to 
his people again. Look on the preparation of some 
large building ; in one place, you shall see heaps of lime 
and mortar, in another, piles of timber, everywhere rude 



CHURCH. 



8 I 



and indigested materials, and a tumultuary noise of axes 
and hammers ; but at length the artificer sets everything 
in order, and raiseth up;i beautiful structure. Such is the 
proceeding of the Lord in the afflictions and visitations of 
his church ; though the enemy intend to ruin it, yet God 
intends only to repair it. 

When a statute was made in Queen Elizabeth's reign, 
that all should come to church upon penalty of being looked 
upon as in a way of recusancy, and so punishable by law, 
the papists sent to Rome to know the Pope's pleasure. 
He returned them this answer : " Bid the Catholics in Eng- 
land give me their hearts, and let the queen take the rest ;" 
and withal a dispensation was granted ; so that very many 
came to church, but it was more for fear than love, more 
for the saving of their purses, than any thought at all of 
saving their poor deluded souls ; and thus it was that as 
Christ had his saints in Nero's court, so the devil has his 
servants in the outward court of his visible church ; so that 
a man must have something more to entitle him to heaven 
than being within the pale of the church, and giving an 
outward conformity to the ordinances of Christ. His lan- 
guage is, Let them give me their hearts, let God take all the 
rest ; let them be of the church, but not in the church, a 
partaker of church privileges, but no true proprietor of the 
graces and benefits thereby accruing. — Spencer. 

Suppose a stranger, one that never heard of the ebb- 
ing and flowing of the sea, should come to some navigable 
river, as to the Thames' side at high water, and should 
there observe how much it fell in six or seven hours, would 
he not conclude, that after that the river would run itself 
dry in a short time ? whereas they that are acquainted with 
the tides know for certain when the ebb is at the lowest, 
the tide of a rising water is upon the return. Thus 
it was with the Church of God ; it may seem to be at a 
dead low water, and in a sinking condition, but even then 
its lowest estate is an immediate forerunner of its rising 
again ; as, for instance, the most raging and violent of 
those ten bloody persecutions was that of Diocletian, but 

G 



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CHRIST. 



attended by the mild and peaceable times of Constantius the 
father. — Ibid. 

It is said of Mytilene, a magnificent stately city near the 
borders of Phrygia, that it was rarely builded, but very badly 
situated ; for when the south wind blew, the inhabitants 
grew sick ; when the west wind, they did cough ; but 
when the north wind blew, they were all well. Thus the 
church militant is rarely builded, but badly situated, as it 
were, in the unhealthy marshes of Egypt ; one while the 
south wind blows, and it is sick, that is, when heresies 
spring up with the gospel, as in the first five hundred 
years after Christ ; another time the church labours for 
life under the strength of some violent disease, as in those 
ten bloody persecutions next following Christ's ascension. 
Add hereunto the sad distress that she is in, rent and 
torn in pieces with sects and schisms, and groaning under 
the burden of an insupportable toleration thereof ; but the 
church's comfort is, that God, the great Physician, will, in 
his good time, turn about the wind into another corner, that 
it may be healed. — Ibid. 



It is said of Johannes Manlius, whensoever he spake of 
the name of Jesus, his eyes dropped. And another reve- 
rend divine, being in a deep muse, after some discourse that 
passed of Jesus, tears trickled down abundantly from his 
cheeks before he was aware, because he could not draw his 
full heart to prize Christ aright. Mr. Fox never denied a 
beggar that asked in the name of Jesus Christ. And reli- 
gious Baxter never disregarded any (though different in 
opinion from him) in whom he could discover anything of 
Jesus Christ. None but Christ, says John Lambert at 
the stake. And my Master ! says Mr. Herbert, that 



CHRIST. 



83 



divine poet, as often as he heard the name of Jesus men- 
tioned. How then should our hearts rejoice, and our 
tongues be glad ! and how should we be vexed at the deadness 
and dulness of our naughty nature, that are no more 
affected with the name of Jesus, a name above all names ! 
Such a word ! saith the heathen orator, and so emphatical, 
that other tongues can hardly find a word to express it. 
It is like the opening of a casket of precious perfume, filling 
the soul with its fragrance, and the sweet odour of his 
name. 

Mary, when she went in quest of her Saviour, stopped 
not at the empty monument, but searches and follows 
him so far, that she discovered him under the disguise 
of a gardener ; and then casting herself at his feet, takes 
possession of him, with this acclamation, Rabboni ! which 
is in effect as much as Thomas's congratulation, " My Lord 
and my God !" Thus it is that true knowledge doth not 
always hunt objects at the view, nor doth it stop at the 
numerous effects wrought by the Creator ; it is not a shal- 
low or superficial knowledge, that God is, in a general 
consideration, the cause of all things, a Creator at large, 
but in a nearer — My God, my Creator ! It is true that 
Christ is the Saviour of the world ; so much I know, but 
this is useless truth to me, if my knowledge reach no fur- 
ther, unless my faith entitle me to him, and, by appropriating 
his work, be able to call him My Lord, my God, my Re- 
deemer ! — Spencer. 

In the days of Theoclosius, the Arians, through his con- 
nivance, were grown very bold, and not only had their 
meetings in Constantinople, the chief city of the empire, 
but would dispute their opinions in the public streets, and 
no man could prevail with the emperor to lay restraints 
upon them, because he thought it would be a mark of 
severity and intolerance. At length comes to Constanti- 
nople one Amphilothius, bishop of Iconium, (a poor town,) 
an honest man, but no great politician for the world ; he 
petitions the emperor to restrain the Arians, but in vain. 
Next time he comes to the court, finding the emperor 
and his son Arcadius (whom he had lately created joint 

g 2 



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CHRIST 



emperor) standing together ; he doth very low obeisance to 
the father, but none to the son, yet coming up to him in a 
familiar manner seized his hand, and saith, " God save 
you, my child ;" the emperor taking this for a great affront, 
being full of rage, bids them turn the man out of doors. 
As the officers were dragging him forth, he, turning to the 
emperor, saith, " Make an account, O emperor, that thus, 
even thus, is the heavenly Father displeased with those 
that do not honour the Son equally with the Father:" 
which the emperor hearing, calls the bishop back again, 
asks him forgiveness, presently makes a law against 
Arianism, forbids their meetings and disputations. Here 
was a blessed artifice by which the zeal of this emperor 
was suddenly turned into the right channel, and he was 
taught, by his tenderness over his own honour, and the 
honour of his son, to be tender of the honour of God, and 
his Son Jesus Christ. — Ibid. 

The difficulties attending an open confession of Christ 
are the occasion of multitudes making shipwreck of their 
souls. In many hopeful characters that scripture, " the 
fear of man bringeth a snare," is sadly verified. Cato 
and the philosophers of Rome honoured the gods of their 
country, though unbelievers in the superstitions of their 
country. Plato was convinced of the unity of God, but 
durst not own his convictions, but said, " It was a truth, 
neither easy to find, nor safe to own." And even Seneca, 
the renowned moralist, was forced by temptation to dissem- 
ble his convictions, of whom Augustus saith, " He wor- 
shipped what himself reprehended, and did what himself 
reproved." And at the interruption which was given to 
the progress of the Reformation by the return of the 
papists to power — some, as they went to mass, would ex- 
claim, " Let us go to the common error." Thus, convic- 
tion is not conversion, where there is no confession of 
Christ. 

At Christ's resurrection the Lord sent an angel to remove 
the stone from the mouth of the sepulchre ; not to supply 
any want of power in him who could himself have rolled 
away the stone with one of his fingers; but as a judge, 



CHRIST. 



85 



when the law is satisfied, sendeth an officer to open the 
prison doors to him who hath made that satisfaction ; so the 
Father, to testify that his justice was fully satisfied with the 
price which his Son had paid, sent an officer of heaven to 
open the doors of the grave, and, as it were, to hold away 
the hanodno- while his Lord came forth of his chamber. 

A traveller writes, " I saw a flaming globe of fire, magni- 
ficent indeed, but too terrible for the eye to rest upon, if its 
beams had been naked and exposed ; but it was suspended 
in a vase of crystal so transparent that while it softened the 
intensity of its rays, it shrouded nothing of its beauty. On 
the contrary, that which before would have been a mass of 
undistinguishable light, now emitted through the vase many 
beautiful and various coloured rays which riveted the be- 
holder with wonder and astonishment." Such is God mani- 
fested in Christ. Out of Christ he meets the affrighted sin- 
ner's eye as a " consuming fire." Like fiery flames breaking 
forth to consume the adversary, he is too terrible for the ap- 
prehension of man. Before his brightness the seraphim 
veil their faces with twain of their wings, and astonished 
man cannot behold him. But now he reveals himself in 
Christ, and says, " Look unto me." His terrible majesty no 
longer affrights us — like the fiery beams softened by the vase, 
his " consuming fire," seen in Christ, is like the mild rays of 
the morning sun in spring, going forth to bless the earth with 
its cheerful and invigorating beams. So shines out the light 
of his glory, creating joy in the heart of man and angels — 
the one seeing him as the reconciling Father of his long-lost 
family, the other beholding fresh perfections and glories 
beaming from his godhead as they see him in Christ the 
Redeemer. 

Believers see whence their preservation proceeds. They 
see the Captain of their salvation, in whom is the fulness of 
the Spirit, and to whom are committed all the stores of 
grace, supplying them daily and hourly as the matter re- 
quires. As the captain in an army does not at once give 
out to his soldiers the whole provision that is needful for 
their way and undertaking, which if he should, most of 
them would soon imprudently waste it, and so quickly perish 



86 



CHRIST. 



with, want ; but he keeps provisions for them all in his stores, 
and distributes to them according to their daily necessities ; 
even thus deals this great leader with the sons of God. He 
keeps the stores of grace and spiritual strength in his own 
hand, and from thence imparts unto them according to their 
need. 

Many are the similitudes used by both ancient and 
modern writers to illustrate the mysterious union of God 
and man in one person of Jesus Christ our Mediator ; but 
these have long since been noted as defective in one part or 
other ; that, therefore, of the misletoe in the oak, or in the 
apple-tree, seemeth to hold out the best. First, the apple- 
tree and misletoe are two perfect and different natures in 
one tree, the misletoe wanting no integral part that belongs 
to misletoe : so the godhead and manhood are two perfect 
and different natures in one person, in one Christ, in one 
Lord. Secondly, the misletoe never had a separate and dis- 
tinct subsistence of its own, but one subsisteth in union with 
the apple-tree, which sustaineth and maintaineth it : so the 
human nature of Christ never had any distinct and separate 
subsistence of its own, but, from the first conception, sub- 
sisted in union with the divine substance. Thirdly, the 
apple-tree and misletoe are so one tree, that their two differ- 
ent natures are neither confounded together, nor changed one 
into another to make up a third nature, but are so individu- 
ally united, that, retaining their different natures, they are 
but one tree ; so also the two natures of Christ are without 
confusion or commutation united in one person, and yet they 
still retain real differences. Fourthly, the apple-tree and 
misletoe, though one tree, yet, having different natures, bear 
different fruits, as apples and berries ; so the godhead and 
manhood of Christ, though but one person, yet being differ- 
ent natures, perform distinct actions peculiar to each of 
them. Lastly, as we may truly say, by reason of this union, 
this apple-tree is a misletoe, and this misletoe is an apple- 
tree ; and consequently this misletoe beareth apples, and 
this apple-tree beareth berries ; so we may truly say, by rea- 
son of the personal union in God and man in Christ, this 
son of man is the Son of God, and the Son of God is the 



CHRIST. 



87 



son of Mary ; the Son of God was crucified, and the son of 
Mary created heaven and earth. — Spencer. 

We are not to think there was no light in the world till 
Christ came, and the gospel was published in the world by 
the apostles' ministry. Our Lord, indeed, speaking with re- 
ference to his ministry, says that " light is come into the 
world." But Abraham saw Christ's day. — John viii. 56. 
And all the faithful before Christ saw the promises, that is, 
their accomplishment in Christ, afar off. — Heb. xi. 13. For 
it was with Christ the Sun of Righteousness as it is with the 
natural sun, which illuminates the hemisphere before it 
actually rises, or showeth its body above the horizon ; but 
when it rises and shows itself, the light is much clearer : so 
it was when there was a more clear and open manifestation 
of Christ by the gospel. — Ibid. 

The justice of God receives more glory in the redemption 
of our souls than in the condemnation of the world. For 
Christ at once made full satisfaction, but all the condemned 
souls in hell are ever satisfying. You know a payment may 
be made of equal value in a small weight of gold, which is 
equivalent to a greater weight of silver. Christ's blood and 
sufferings, although they were short in respect of their time 
and duration, yet they did exceed the eternal torments of 
the condemned in respect of the worth of his person. 

Though God maketh reconcilement with us, yet this grace 
of his is to us in vain, because we continue his enemies still. 
The sun is set in the heavens for a public light, yet it bene- 
fiteth none but those who open their eyes to admit and make 
use of its light. A court of justice or equity is a public 
sanctuary ; yet it relieveth none but those that seek unto it. 
Christ is a public and universal salvation, set up for all 
comers, and applicable to all particulars. " He is not will- 
ing that any should perish, but that all should come to repent- 
ance ;"— " He tasted death for every man ;" but all this is 
not beneficial unto life, but only to those that receive him. 

After the prophets of ancient times had long gazed 
through the mists of futurity at the sufferings of Christ, 
and the glory that should follow, a company of them were 
gathered together on the summit of Calvary. They saw a 



88 



CHRIST. 



host of enemies ascending the hill, arrayed for battle, and 
most terrific in their aspect. In the middle of the line was 
the Law of God, fiery and exceedingly broad, and working- 
wrath ; on the right wing was Beelzebub with his troop of 
infernals ; and on the left Caiaphas with his Jewish priests, 
and Pilate with his Roman soldiers. The rear was brought 
up by Death, the last enemy. When the holy seers had 
escaped this army, and perceived that it was drawing nigh, 
they started back and prepared for flight. As they looked 
round, they saw the Son of God advancing with intrepid 
step, having his face fixed upon the hostile band. Seest 
thou the danger that is before thee ? said one of the men of 
God. " I will tread them in my anger," he replied, " and 
trample them in my fury." " Who art thou ?" said the 
prophet. He answered, " I that speak in righteousness, 
mighty to save." " Wilt thou venture to the battle alone ?" 
asked the seer. The Son of God replied, " I looked and 
there was none to help, and I wondered there was none to 
uphold ; therefore, my own arm shall bring salvation unto 
me, and my fury shall uphold me." " At what point will 
they commence their attack ?" inquired the anxious prophet. 
" I will just meet the law," he replied, " and pass under 
the curse ; for, 4 lo ! I come to do thy will, O God ;' when I 
have succeeded in the centre of the line, the colours will 
turn in my favour." So saying, he moved forward. In- 
stantly the thunderings of Sinai were heard, and the whole 
band of prophets quaked with terror. But he advanced 
undaunted, amid the gleaming lightnings. For a moment 
he was concealed from view ; and the banner of wrath 
waved alone in apparent triumph. Suddenly the scene was 
changed. A stream of blood poured forth from his wounded 
side, and put out all the fires of Sinai. The flag of peace was 
now seen unfurled, and consternation filled the ranks of his 
foes. He then crushed with his bruised heel the old ser- 
pent's head and put ail the infernal powers to flight. 
With his iron rod he dashed to pieces the enemies on the 
left wing like a potter's vessel. Death still remained, who 
thought himself invincible, having hitherto triumphed over 
all. He came forward brandishing his sting, which he had 



CHRIST. 



89 



whetted on Sinai's tables of stone. He darted it at the 
conqueror, but it turned down, and hung like the flexible 
lash of a whip. Dismayed, he retreated to the grave, unto 
which the conqueror pursued. In a dark corner of his den 
he sat on his throne of mouldering sculls, and called upon 
the worms, his hitherto faithful allies, to aid him in the con- 
flict ; but they replied, " His flesh shall see no corruption." 
The sceptre fell from his hands. The conqueror seized 
him, bound him, and condemned him to the lake of fire ; 
and then rose from the grave followed by a band of released 
captives, who came forth after his resurrection to be wit- 
nesses of the victory he had won. — Christmas Evans. 

There is an apologue, how the dove made moan to her 
fellow birds of the tyranny of the hawk ; one counsels her 
to keep below ; but the hawk can stoop for his prey : 
another adviseth her to soar aloft ; but the hawk can mount 
as high as she. Another to shroud herself in the woods, 
there she shall be sure ; but alas, that is the hawk's place 
where he keeps his court. Another bids her keep the town, 
there she was sure to be safe from the hawk ; but so she 
became a prey to man, and had her eyes put out to make 
the hawk sport. At last one bids her rest herself in the 
holes of the rock ; there she should be safe, violence itself 
could not surprise her. This dove is the soul of every man, 
she would gladly be secured from Satan. Come to me, saith 
riches, here thou shalt be secure ; no, wealth is the devil's 
stirrup, whereby he gets up and rides the covetous man. 
Come to me, saith pleasure, here thou shalt be safe ; as if 
she were not as very a Delilah to betray thee to the Philis- 
tines. Honour says, Come to me, here thou art safe ; as if 
the devil durst not come near the court-gates, or greatness 
were a license to sin, or a protection against the arrest of 
judgments ; no, there is no assurance in any of these ; yet 
there is a rock of safety, clefts in that rock, the wounds of 
J esus Christ ; there, and there only, the soul shall be in 
safety. — Spencer. 

The vine of Eschol, one of whose clusters was a burden 
for two men, affords the most apt emblem of Him who con- 
descends to say of himself, " I am the true Vine." His 



90 



CHRIST. 



human nature resembled the plain, rough, and almost 
unsightly external appearance of the vine-stem ; but in his 
divine nature he was higher than the heavens, and extended 
the influence of Lis refreshing shade over the heavens and 
the earth. 

Christ, a fountain of living waters, self-existent and 
eternal; he is not like the stream which, however deep, and 
full, and broad, is derived from some other source, but is 
himself the source of all things, from whom all the streams 
have taken their origin. It takes many springs to form one 
stream, and many streams to fill the channel of a river ; nor 
is the spring unfrequently strangely disproportioned to the 
river. The traveller is astonished when he arrives at the 
fountain head to be able to step across it, and the nearer he 
views the stream to its source the shallower is its water ; 
but the nearer I approach to my Saviour, the more I am 
astonished at him as the fountain, and am lost in wouder at 
the immensity and glory of the works that emanate from 
him. 

That the innocent should suffer for the guilty is unjust, 
and that which is so cannot satisfy justice. I answer, 'tis 
unjust if the innocent suffer compulsively, but not if he 
suffer freely : 'tis unjust if the innocent sink under his 
sufferings, but not if he be able to bear them : 'tis unjust if 
there be no good in his sufferings commensurate to the evil, 
but not if the evil be exceeded by the subsequent good : 'tis 
unjust if the innocent stand in no relation to the innocent 
for whom he suffers ; but not if he stand in relation to him. 
Suppose a natural relation ; Saul's sons were hanged for Saul's 
sins. 2 Sam. xxi. 9. Suppose a political relation ; seventy 
thousand fall for David's sin; 2 Sam. xxiv. 15; which 
makes him cry out, Lo ! I have sinned, but these sheep, 
what have they done ? Suppose a voluntary relation ; 
sureties must pay for their principals, and that not only in 
money matters, but in capital punishments ; thus the ciV-ni/v^ol 
engaged life for life, which the apostle seems to insinuate in 
that passage, " Peradventure for a good man some would 
dare to die." Rom. v. 7. And why may not Christ, who 
by all these ways is conjoined to us, naturally as a man, 



CHRIST. 



91 



legally as a surety, and mystically as a head, justly suffer for 
us ? Especially, seeing there was free action in his passion, 
victorious strength under his burthen, and the penal evil 
crowned by such a grand good as redemption is, why may 
not he suffer for us? The Scriptures are positive in it, 
" Christ died for the ungodly;" Rom. v. 6; " the just for 
the unjust ;" 1 Pet. iii. 18 ; and " one for all." 2 Cor. v. 14. 

Andromeda, a daughter of Cepheus, the king of ^Ethiopia, 
to appease the resentment of Neptune, was chained naked 
to a rock, and exposed to a sea monster. Perseus engaged 
to deliver her, on condition of receiving her in marriage, as 
the reward of his trouble. Just as the monster was about 
to devour her, Perseus slew him and delivered Andromeda. 
Mount Sinai, or the hope of being saved (in part at least) 
by our own works, may be compared to that dreary rock ; 
the soul of man is the Andromeda chained to the rock ; 
Satan is the serpent that gapes to devour; Christ is the 
Perseus, who, by the sword of his Spirit, allays the monster's 
power, breaks the legal chain, sets the awakened soul at 
liberty, and takes it to himself as a bride, and an eternal 
monument of his victory over the monster Satan. 

I have no notion of a timid, disingenuous profession of 
Christ. Such preachers and professors are like a rat playing 
at hide-and-seek behind a wainscot, who puts his head 
through a hole to see if the coast is clear, and ventures out 
if nobody is in the way ; but slinks backs again when 
danger appears. We cannot be honest to Christ except we 
are bold for him. He is either worth all we can lose for 
him, or he is worth nothing. 

A celebrated heathen said, Mea virtute me involvo : " I 
wrap myself up in my own virtue." A true believer has 
something better to wrap himself up in. When Satan says, 
thou hast yielded to my suggestions : when conscience says, 
thou hast turned a deaf ear to my admonitions ; when the law 
of God says, thou hast brohen me ; when the gospel says, thou 
hast neglected me ; when justice says, thou hast iyisulted me; 
when mercy says, thou hast slighted me ; faith can say, all 
this is too true ; but Christi justitid involvo, I wrap myself 
up in the righteousness of Jesus Christ. — Spencer. 



92 



CHRIST. 



The business of Christ's blood is, to wash our bad works 
out, and to wash our good works clean. 

A gracious sight of our vileness (says one of the ablest, 
and most useful writers of the last century) is the work of 
Christ only, by his Spirit. The law is indeed a looking- 
glass, able to represent the fllthiness of a person ; but the 
law gives not eyes to see that fllthiness. Bring a looking- 
glass and set it before a blind man — he sees no more spots 
in his face than if he had none at all. Though the glass be 
a good glass, still the glass cannot give eyes ; yet if he had 
eyes, he would, in the glass, see his blemishes. The apostle 
James compares the law to a looking-glass ; and a faculty 
to represent is all the law possesseth. But it doth not 
impart a faculty to see what it represents. It is Christ alone 
who opens the eyes of men, to behold their own vileness 
and guilt. He opens the eyes, and then, in the law, a man 
sees what he is. 

Nature doth afford us one comparison fit to explain or 
illustrate the manner of this mysterious union, the God-man ; 
which is the union of man's soul and body, by which he 
becomes one person. The soul and body are two substances, 
very different in kind, properties, and dignity, (the one mate- 
rial, extended, divisible, corruptible, passive, lifeless, and sense- 
less; the other immaterial, indivisible, incorruptible, self- 
moving, endued with life, knowledge, passion,) capable also 
both of separate existence and subsistence by itself; yet are 
these (though in a manner difficult for us to imagine or com- 
prehend) united together and concur to the constitution of 
a man, (and that so as to remain still in substance distinct, 
retaining each its natural properties, without any confusion 
or conversion of one into the other ; so also that a man is 
truly from them denominated both corporeal and spiritual, 
mortal and immortal ;) in like manner (though more admi- 
rably and incomprehensibly) are the divine and humane 
nature united in the Son of God ; for (as we read in Atha- 
nasius' creed) — " As the reasonable soul and flesh is one man, 
so God and man is one Christ." 

Christ's being a mediator of reconciliation, implies the 
ardent love, and large piety that f died his heart towards poor 



CHRIST. 



93 



sinners. For he doth not only mediate by way of entreaty, 
going betwixt both, and persuading- and begging peace ; but 
he mediates in the capacity of a surety, by putting himself 
under an obligation to satisfy our debts. O how compas- 
sionately did Christ's heart work toward us ! Our Mediator, 
like Jonah his type, seeing the stormy sea of God's wrath 
working tempestuously, and ready to swallow us up, cast in 
himself to appease the storm. I remember how much that 
noble act of Marcus Curtius is celebrated in the Roman 
history, who being informed by the oracle that the great 
breach made by the earthquake could not be closed except 
something of worth were cast into it, heated with love to the 
commonwealth, he went and cast in himself. This was looked 
upon as a bold and brave adventure. But what was this to 
Christ's offering ? 

It is reported of a certain godly man, that living near to 
a philosopher, he did often persuade him to become a 
Christian. Oh ! but, said the philosopher, if I turn Christian, 
I must, or may, lose all for Christ ; to whom and to which 
the good man replied, If you lose anything for Christ, he 
will be sure to repay it a hundredfold. But, said the philo- 
sopher, Will you be bound for Christ ; that if he do not pay 
me, you will. Yes, that I will, said the other. So the philo- 
sopher became a Christian, and the good man entered into 
bond for performance of covenants. Some time after it so fell 
out that the philosopher fell sick on his deathbed, and hold- 
ing the bond in his hand, sent for the party engaged, to 
whom he gave up the bond, and said, Christ hath paid all, 
there is nothing for you to pay ; take your bond and cancel it. 
Thus it is that Christ is a sure, willing, able paymaster ; 
whatsoever any man ever did for him, hath been fully re- 
compensed ; and put the ease so far that a man should be 
loser for Christ, yet he shall be no loser by Christ, — he will 
make amends for all in the conclusion. — Spencer. 

Do you ask me, where be my jewels ? My jewels are my 
husband and his triumphs, said Phocion's wife. Do you ask 
me, where be your ornaments ? My ornaments are my two 
sons, brought up in virtue and learning, said the mother of 
the Gracchi. Do you ask me where are my treasures ? My 



9.4 



CHRIST. 



treasures are my friends, said Constantius, the father of 
Constantine ; but ask a child of God, where be his jewels, 
his treasures, his ornaments, his comforts, his delights, and 
the joy of his soul, he will answer, with that martyr, None 
but Christ, none but Christ — Christ is all in all unto me. — Ibid. 

A stationer, being at a fair, hung out his pictures of 
men famous in their kind ; among which he had also the 
picture of Christ : divers men bought according to their 
several fancies ; the soldier buys his Caesar, the lawyer his 
Justinian, the physician his Galen, the philosopher his 
Aristotle, the poet his Virgil, the orator his Cicero, and the 
divine his Augustine, — every man after the dictation of his 
own heart: the picture of Christ hung by still, of less price 
than the rest ; a poor shopman, that had no more money 
than would purchase that, bought it, saying, Now every 
one hath taken away his god, let me have mine. Thus, 
whilst the covetous repair to their riches like birds to their 
nests ; the ambitious to their honours, like butterflies to a 
poppy ; the strong to their holds ; the learned to their 
arts ; atheists to their sensual refuges, as dogs to their 
kennels; and politicians to their wit, as foxes to their 
holes ; the devout soul will have no other sanctuary, fix 
upon no other object, but Christ Jesus, not pictured in 
their chamber, but planted in the inner chamber of the 
heart. — Ibid. 

It is the observation of Sir Walter Raleigh, that if 
all the pictures and patterns of a merciless prince were 
lost in this world, they might all again be painted to the 
life out of the story of King Henry the Eighth. But, on 
the other side, the Jews had such a high esteem of Esdras, 
that if mercy, love, and knowledge had put out their 
candle, they might light it again at his brain, Behold 
yet a greater than Esdras, Christ Jesus himself : if all 
our love were extinguished, at his love we might easily 
rekindle it : not a word that he spoke, not a work that 
he did, not a passion that he suffered, but was an argu- 
ment, a character of his love ; he brought love, he bought 
love, he exercised love, he bequeathed love, he died in 
love, he is all love. — Ibid. 



CHRIST. 



95 



We read in our chronicles, that Edmund surnamed 
Ironside and Canute, the first Danish king", after many 
encounters, and equal fights, at length embraced a 
present agreement, which was made by parting England 
betwixt them two, and confirmed by oath and sacra- 
ment, putting on each other's apparel and arms, as a 
ceremony, to express the atonement of their minds, as if 
they had made transactions of their persons to each other ; 
Canute became Edmund, and Edmund became Canute. 
Even such a change of apparel is betwixt Christ and his 
church — Christ and every true repentant sinner; he 
taketh upon him their sins, and putteth upon them his 
righteousness ; he changeth their rags into robes ; he arrays 
them with the righteousness of the saints ; that twofold 
righteousness, imputed and imparted ; that of justification, 
and the other of sanctification ; that is an undercoat, this 
is an upper; that clean and fair, this white and fair; 
and both from himself, who is made unto them not only 
" wisdom, but righteousness, sanctification, and redemp- 
tion." Yet, further, he puts upon his church his own 
comeliness, decks his spouse with his own jewels, as Isaac 
did Rebecca ; clothes her with needle-work, and makes 
her more glorious than Hester ever was, in all her beauty 
and bravery; rejoiceth over her as the bridegroom over 
his bride ; yea, is ravished in his love to her, with one 
of her eyes lifted up to him in prayer and meditation, 
with one chain of her neck, that very chain of his own 
graces in her. — Ibid. 

When Solomon was made king, " they did eat and drink 
with great gladness before the Lord ;" and at the solemn 
inaugurations of such kings and princes, the trumpets 
sound, the people shout, the conduits run wine, honours 
are dispersed, gifts distributed, prisons opened, offenders 
pardoned, acts of grace published, nothing suffered to 
eclipse the beauty of such a festivity. Thus it was at 
the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh ; wise men of 
the East brought presents unto him, rejoicing with exceed- 
ing great joy, Matt. ii. 10, 11 ; John the Baptist leapeth 
in the womb ; Mary rejoiceth in God her Saviour ; Zacha- 



96 



ctirist. 



rias glorifieth God for the horn of his salvation in the 
house of David ; Simeon and Hannah bless the Lord for 
the glory of Israel; and after, when he came to Jesu- 
salem, the whole multitude spread garments, strewed 
branches, and cried before him and behind him, Hosanna to 
the Son of David, hosanna to the highest. Matt. xxi. 9. 
The glory of the Lord shines that day, and a heavenly 
host proclaim their joy, Luke ii. 9 ; and the Psalmist, 
prophesying long before of it, said, This is the day which 
the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it. 
Psalm cxviii. 24. — Ibid. 

All the good things that can be reckoned up here 
below, have only a finite and limited benignity ; some can 
clothe, but cannot feed ; others can nourish, but they can- 
not heal ; others can enrich, but they cannot secure ; others 
adorn, but cannot advance ; all do serve, but none do 
satisfy ; they are like a beggar's coat, made of many pieces, 
not all enough either to beautify or defend ; but Christ 
is full sufficient for all his people ; he ascended on high 
that he might fill all things, Ephes. iv. 10, that he 
might pour forth such abundance of his Spirit in his church, 
as might answer all the conditions whereunto they may be 
reduced ; righteousness to cover all their sins ; plenty 
enough to supply all their wants ; grace enough to subdue 
all their lusts ; wisdom enough to resolve all their doubts ; 
power enough to vanquish all their enemies ; virtue enough 
to cure all their diseases ; fulness enough to save them, 
and that to the utmost. So that as one ocean hath more 
waters than all the rivers of the world, and one sun more 
light than all the luminaries in the heavens; so one 
Christ is more all to a poor soul, than if it had the all 
of the whole world a thousand times over.— Ibid. 

It is mentioned, that in the time of our Marian persecution 
there was a woman, who being convened before Bonner 
upon the trial of her religion, he threatened that he 
would take away her husband from her : saith she, Christ 
is my husband. I will take away thy child. Christ, saith 
she, is better to me than ten sons. I will strip thee, 
saith he, of all thy outward comforts. Yea, but Christ is 



CHRIST. 



97 



mine, saith she, and you cannot strip me of him. The 
thoughts of this bore up the woman's heart; spoil her of 
all, and take away all, yet Christ was hers, and him they 
could not take away. Thus when the soul lives, assurance 
of God's love, and of its calling to grace and glory, can- 
not but make a man very patient to endure with cheer- 
fulness whatsoever of opposition he may meet with here below. 
There is a remarkable phrase of the prophet, " the inha- 
bitants of Sion shall not say, I am sick, the people that 
dwell therein shall be forgiven their iniquity :" a strange 
passage ! he doth not say, they were not sick, but the text 
saith, they should not say so ; and what is the reason ? why 
should the people forget their sorrows, and not remember 
their pains ? this was it that did it, the Lord had forgiven 
them their iniquities. The sense of pardon does away the 
sense of pain. — Ibid. 

In historical paintings, the principal personages whose 
history is to be represented occupy the fore-ground, and stand 
out, as it were, from the other figures which occupy the 
back-ground. In the painting of the death of General 
Wolfe, who fell at Quebec, the dying hero immediately 
arrests your attention ; your eyes fasten upon him, and all 
your sympathies and feelings are united there. So with the 
believer, it is Christ who occupies the fore-ground of his 
vision. He is the glorious personage who continually fills 
his eye and secures his attention, and makes every surround- 
ing object little in its dimensions beside him. It is Christ 
who died for him at Calvary ; this draws out his affections 
towards him. All other objects are eclipsed in their beauty, 
and have no beauty in comparison with Christ. " Whom 
have I in heaven," &c. But with the man of this world, the 
things of time and sense are the grand and capital figures 
which occupy the fore-ground, whilst Christ is in the back- 
ground, and scarcely visible. Yea, so many are these, 
that the image of Christ is generally lost in the crowd. 
These are perpetually filling his eyes, and calling forth his 

i admiration, while Jesus is (as of old) like a Nazarene, and 

| despised. 

Augustine in his Confess, lib. viii. cap. 2, hath a nota- 

H 



98 



CHRIST. 



ble story of one Victorinus, (famous in Rome for rhetoric, 
which he taught the senators ;) this man in his old age was 
converted to Christianity, and came to Simplicius, (one emi- 
nent at the time for his piety,) whispering in his ear softly 
these words : " Ego sum christianus, — I am a Christian ;" but 
this holy man answered, " Non credo ; nec reputabo te inter 
christianos, nisi in ecclesia te videro, — I will not believe it, nor 
count thee so, till I see thee among; the Christians in the 
church :" at which he laughed, saying, " Ergones parites 
facient christianum 1 — Cannot I be such, unless I openly pro- 
fess it, and let the world know the same ?" This he said 
for fear, being yet a young convert, though an old man ; 
but a while after (when he was more confirmed in the 
faith, and seriously considered that if he continued thus 
ashamed of Christ, he would be ashamed of him when he 
cometh in the glory of his Father with his holy angels) he 
changed his note, and came to Simplicius, saying, " Eamus 
ecclesiam, christianus volo fieri, — Let us go to the church, I will 
now in earnest be a Christian ; and there, though a private 
profession of his faith might have been accepted, chose to 
do it openly, saying, " that he had openly professed rhetoric, 
which was not a matter of salvation, and should he be afraid 
to own the word of God in the congregation of the faithful? 
God requires the religion both of the heart and mouth. 
Rom. x. 10. 

What prepossession, what blindness must it be, to com- 
pare the son of Sophroniscus to the son of Mary ! What 
an infinite disproportion is there between them ! Socrates, 
dying without pain or ignominy, easily supported his cha- 
racter to the last, and if his death, however easy, had not 
crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether So- 
crates, with all his wisdom, was any more than a vain sophist. 
He invented, it is said, the theory of morals ; others, how- 
ever, before had put them in practice ; he had only to say, 
therefore, what they had done, and to reduce their example 
to precepts. Aristides had been just before Socrates defined 
justice ; Leonidas had given up his life for his country be- 
fore Socrates had declared patriotism to be a duty; the 
Spartans were a sober people before Socrates recommended 



CHRIST. 



99 



sobriety ; before he had defined virtue, Greece abounded in 
virtuous men. But where could Jesus learn, among his com- 
petitors, that pure and sublime morality of which he only 
hath given us both precept and example 1 The greatest 
wisdom was made known amongst the most bigoted fanati- 
cism ; and the simplicity of the most heroic virtue did 
honour to the vilest people upon earth. The death of So- 
crates peaceably philosophising with his friends appears 
the most agreeable that could be wished for ; that of J esus 
expiring in the midst of agonising pain, abused, insulted, 
and accused by a whole nation, is the most horrible that 
can be feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of poi- 
son, blessed indeed the weeping executioner who admi- 
nistered. But Jesus, in the midst of his excruciating tor- 
tures, prayed for his merciless tormentors. Yes, if the life 
and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the life and 
death of Jesus were those of a God. 

Just as when a fainting fit has come upon the body, a 
strong and pungent odour will revive it, so will the fra- 
grance of Jesus' name refresh the dying soul, when nothing else 
under heaven will refresh and resuscitate its languid powers. 

The love of Christ is not lost by generalities, nor is it 
lessened by division. Like the great luminary of heaven, in 
the communications of his grace he shines with the same ful- 
ness upon all the objects of his love ; each alike observes the 
complete disk of the Sun of Righteousness turned towards him- 
self, as though no creatures besides participated in his beams. 

When a man is born into the world, he is born in sin, and 
his name entered in a book in which the names of all the 
family of fallen Adam are enrolled, and by its side 
stands the recording angel, who enters against the sin- 
ner's name, from the hour that conscience strikes the 
clock in his heart, every sin that he commits, both of 
thought, word, and deed. But when the sinner hears the 
voice of God calling him to turn, and reads his sins in the 
book of his law, and the sinner cries, I perish (for I deserve 
nothing but wrath) unless the Redeemer atone for my sins 
— immediately the hand of him who was crucified on Cal- 
vary is seen covering the handwriting of transgression 

h 2 



100 



CHRIST. 



that was recorded against the sinner's name, and the blood 
flows afresh from its wounded pores, and blots and covers 
this testimony to sin ; and when God looks, he sees now not 
the sinner's sin, but the blood of the Redeemer, with whom 
he is well pleased. 

The Holy Ghost is always sure to bring a man to the foot 
of the cross. It is a beam of light, which if you follow it 
will surely lead you to the sun. It is a stream, and by fol- 
lowing the stream you will surely be led to the fountain, or 
to the ocean. So when a man begins to sow to the spirit, you 
will be sure to find him at the foot of the cross. He wants 
pardon, he wants grace and safety. There it is. 

As the lesser streams fall into, and are mixed with the 
greater, and as all the rivers empty themselves and are 
lost in the ocean ; so the whole course of events from the 
creation of the world, in their separate currents, and in their 
general and combined tide, flow towards one grand era, 
styled in Scripture " the fulness of time ;" and terminate 
in one event of infinitely greater moment than all the rest — 
the manifestation of the Son of God in the flesh. 

Some compare the way in which Christ's righteousness is 
imputed to us to the sun shining upon the wall through 
painted glass, whereby the true colour communicated by the 
glass is upon it ; yet this colour is not the colour of the wall, 
but the colour of the glass, and inherent in the glass, and 
only reflected on the wall ; the righteousness whereby we 
are justified, and which covers our iniquities from the sight of 
God, is inherent in Christ, but reflected or transferred on us. 

Christ's death was profitable to remission of sins before, 
at the time, and after it took place, as the sun at noon-day 
not only illuminates the meridian where he is, but also the 
east backwards whence he came, and the west forwards whi- 
ther he is rolling his course. Hence Jesus Christ is called 
" the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." 

" I beheld, and lo ! in the midst of the throne stood a 
lamb as it were slain." This verse of the subject has been well 
illustrated by the story of Amyntas and iEschylus, related 
by the historian JElian. iEschylus was condemned to death 
by the Athenians, and was about to be led to execution; his 



CHRIST. 



101 



brother Amyntas had signalised himself in the service of 
his country, and in a day of most illustrious victory, in a 
great measure obtained by his means, had lost his hand. He 
came into the court just as his brother was condemned, and, 
without saying anything, exposed the stump of his arm from 
under his garment, and held it up in their sight. The his- 
torian tells us, that when " the judges saw this mark of his 
suffering, they remembered what he had done, and for his 
sake discharged the guilty brother whose life had been for- 
feited. Thus, the wounded body of the Saviour is in the 
sight of God thus perpetually pleading for his sinful and 
guilty brethren. — Bickersteth. 

As the house of Obededom was blessed for the sake of the 
residing ark, so religion has often escaped evil, and received 
homage from its foes, for the sake of the character of Christ. 
Men who have destroyed, in intention, every other part of 
the temple of truth, have paused when they came to this, 
having turned aside and desisted for a while from the work 
of demolition, to gaze and bow before it; have not merely 
left it as a column too majestic, or an alter too holy, for 
human sacrilege to assault, but (it was the only redeeming 
act in their history) have even subscribed their names on its 
base, and have been heard to burst forth in admiring excla- 
mations approaching to love. 

Christ is " God manifest." He is the word — God heard : 
— He is the light — God seen : — He is the life — God felt. 

If sympathy is to be considered as a kind of substitution 
by which we are put into the place of another, and affected 
in many respects as he is affected, then what shall we think 
of the sympathy of Christ, which never allows him to re- 
main an indifferent spectator of anything his people may 
suffer ? Virtue cannot receive the slightest wound of which 
he does not instantly feel the smart. He is the great sym- 
pathetic nerve of the church, over which all the oppressions 
and sufferings of his people distinctly pass ; nor does that 
mysterious instrument of sensation in the human body con- 
vey more correctly to the sensorium a sense of the condition 
of the extremest part of the frame, than the benevolence of 
Jesus, who is the sensorium of the spiritual universe, appre- 



102 



CHRIST, 



liends and sympathises with the least smotion of suffering in 
his body the church. — Harris. 

I would illustrate that unvarying attention with which the 
believer would regard the Saviour, by a very humble compa- 
rison. We may gather wisdom from the evolutions of per- 
formers on the slack rope. He has to preserve his balance 
in a most critical position ; at the first glance it seems inevi- 
table that he will sustain a fall. But as your attention is 
directed to him, you will observe that his eye is steadily fixed 
on one spot above him. He maintains one determined and 
unalterable gaze, an immoveable vision, from first to last. If 
he looked below him, or on the surrounding objects, he 
would fall. His safety lies in the steady observance of the 
object above him. It is so with the believer. His safety 
alone consists in " looking to Jesus," to him with whom he 
first found safety, and through whom it must be preserved. 
If he violate this law of faith, he will inevitably fall into 
sin. He stands in the midst of perils. If the various objects 
by which he is surrounded draw off his attention from the 
Saviour, he falls from his steadfastness. Not only is he apt 
to forget the need of looking off from the things of time 
and sense, and resolutely fixing his eye on the rock that is 
higher than he, but his position is that of one who has ene- 
mies that wait for his halting, and seek to pull him down. 
Would he be safe, his secret consists in unceasingly " looking 
unto Jesus." 

How do men stamp their own sordid works with the pecu- 
liar dignity and value of Christ's blood, and therein seek to 
enter at the gate which God hath shut to all the world, 
because Jesus Christ the prince entered in thereby 1 — Ezek. 
xliv. 2, 3. He entered into heaven in a direct, immediate 
way, even in his own name, and for his own sake ; this gate, 
saith the Lord, shall be shut to all others ; let them fear, lest, 
while they seek entrance into heaven at the wrong door, they 
do not for ever shut against themselves the true and only 
door of happiness. 

The divine wisdom and goodness was pleased, before, and 
during the legal dispensation, by various predictions and 
types, to delineate the person of our Redeemer, and the 



CHRIST. 



103 



work of redemption, to prepare the minds of men for his 
reception at his coming into the world. All the evangelical 
prophecies recorded in the Old Testament, as dispersed 
rays, are conspicuously united in him, the Sun of Righteous- 
ness ; and, as in a curious piece of mosaic work, each stone, 
according to its natural vein and colour, is so exactly dis- 
j30sed, and with that proportion joined to another, that the 
lively figure of the human body results from the composure ; 
so, by variety of types, the entire image of our Saviour's life 
is represented from his first appearing on earth to his 
ascending to heaven. 

He who looks upon Christ through his own graces, is 
like one that sees the sun in water, which wavers and 
moves as the water doth. Look upon Christ only as shining 
in the firmament of the Father's grace and love, and there 
you will see him in his own genuine glory and unspeakable 
fulness. 

A true friend divides the cares, and doubles the joys, of 
his brother in affection. Christ does more; for he takes 
the cares of his people entirely on himself ; and not only 
doubles their joys, but makes all his joys their own. 

Suppose a king's son should get out of a besieged city, 
and leave his wife and children behind, whom he loves as 
his own soul ; would this prince, when arrived at his father's 
palace, delight himself with the splendour of the court, and 
forget his family in distress ? No ! but having their cries 
and groans always in his ears, he would come post to his 
father, and entreat him, as ever he loved him, that he 
would send all the force of his kingdom to raise the siege, 
and save his dear relatives from perishing. Nor will Christ, 
though gone up from the world, and ascended into his 
glory, forget his children for a moment that are left behind him. 

It is a peculiar kind of expression, where the apostle 
prays that they might " know the love of Christ, which 
passeth knowledge." We may know that experimentally 
which we cannot know comprehensively ; we may know that 
in its power and effects which we cannot know in its nature 
and depths. A weary person may receive refreshment from 
a spring, who cannot fathom the depth of the bottom from 
whence it proceeds. 



104 



CHRIST. 



As the payment of a great sum all at once, and at a day 
is a better payment than by a penny a month, until a thou- 
sand years be out ; so Christ's satisfying the Father at once, 
by one sacrifice of himself, is a better satisfaction than if we 
should have been infinite days in paying that which his 
justice requires, and his indignation to sin doth expect. 

The love of Christ could not allow him to despise the 
feeblest puttings forth of grace. Let me ask my mother 
who bears me — thou seest thy feeble child in all its feeble- 
ness, thou seest him weak and sickly, with but little power, 
vigour, strength, healthiness — dost thou despise him because 
he is all this ? dost thou make that one an exception ? I 
say, love all others but that one — dost thou say so? I 
appeal to thine heart — I would make my appeal to the 
understanding the groundwork of my appeal ; but on that 
ground I will appeal to thine heart ; and I do it because 
God does it, for " as a father pitieth his children, so the 
Lord pitieth those that fear him." And shall the tender 
compassionate Redeemer not look on one for whom he died, 
to give him an everlasting inheritance, and make him a 
partaker of his Spirit, when his blood is sprinkled upon the 
door-posts and lintel of the heart ? What ! will he say to 
him, " Because thou art so feeble, I despise thee ; because 
thou art so weak, I reject thee ?" Never. It is not in the 
heart of Christ to do it — not only is it not in his covenant 
engagement to do it, but it is not in his heart. O that thou 
wouldst never so think of him, poor, weak, and tempted 
believer, any more for ever ! 0 that thou wouldst never, 
never entertain one hard thought of him more ! O that thou 
wouldst never take occasion, from the feebleness of thy grace, 
to reason against the strength of his love ! 

The wise architect of that building, the spiritual temple, 
knew both what it would cost, and what a foundation was 
needful, to bear so great and so lasting a structure as he 
intended. Sin having defaced and demolished the first 
building of man in the integrity of his creation, it was God's 
design, out of the very ruins of fallen man, to raise a more 
lasting edifice than the former, one that should not be 
subject to decay ; and therefore he fitted for it a foundation 
that might be everlasting. He chose his own Son, made 



CHRIST. 



105 



flesh. He was God, that he might be a strong foundation ; 
he was man, that he might be suitable to the nature of the 
stone whereof the building was to consist, that thev might 
join and cement together. 

Think how a penitent Israelite must have regarded his 
High Priest. We may consider such a man as saying, " I am 
a miserable polluted sinner ; I cannot enter the holy place 
where God dwells, but am kept at a distance. I cannot burn 
incense acceptably, cannot be permitted to approach him on 
my behalf. He carries my name, or the name of my tribe, 
on his breast-plate. He offers sacrifice for me ; he burns 
incense for me; he enters the most holy place, and sprinkles 
atoning blood for me. In him I am accepted ; and in him 
will I glory. Take away my High Priest, and you take 
away my all ; but while I have him, while he is accepted in 
my behalf, I will exult and rejoice. And with how much 
more reason may the Christian triumph and glory in his 
great High Priest, and rejoice that he is " accepted in the 
Beloved !" 

Suppose professors of religion to be ranged in different 
concentric circles around Christ as their common centre. 
Some value the presence of their Saviour so highly, that 
they cannot bear to be at any remove from him. Even 
their work they will bring up, and do it in the light of his 
countenance ; and, while engaged in it, will be seen con- 
stantly raising their eyes to Him, as if fearful of losing one 
beam of his light. Others, who, to be sure, would not be 
content to live out of his presence, are yet less whollv 
absorbed by it than these ; and may be seen a little further 
off, engaged here and there in their various callings, their 
eyes generally upon their work, but often looking up for the 
light which they love. A third class beyond these, but yet 
within the life-giving rays, includes a doubtful multitude, 
many of whom are so much engaged in their worldly 
schemes, that they may be seen standing sideways to Christ, 
leaning mostly the other way, and only now and then turning 
their faces towards the light. And yet farther out, aniono- 
the last scattered rays, so distant that it is often doubtful 
whether they come ai all within their influence, is a mixed 



106 



CHRIST* 



assemblage of busy ones, some with their backs wholly 
turned upon the sun, and most of them so careful and 
troubled about their many things, as to spare but little time 
for their Saviour. 

The reason why the men of the world think so little of 
Christ, is, they do not look at him. Their backs being 
turned to the sun, they can see only their own shadows, 
and are therefore only taken up with themselves ; while 
the true disciple, looking only upward, sees nothing but his 
Saviour, and learns to forget himself. — Spencer. 

Suppose the rebellious subjects of a very wise and good king 
condemned to death. The king has a son, who, from com- 
passion to these poor wretches, offers to make satisfaction to 
his father for their crimes, if he will pardon them. The 
king consents on one condition. He places his son at the 
door of his palace, and makes proclamation that every one 
who comes to him for pardon, and is led by his son, shall 
be forgiven for his sake. One of the culprits comes, and, 
rejecting the proffered hand of the prince, rushes to the 
throne himself. Can this man expect mercy ? Thus God 
has provided a Mediator, and commanded all to approach 
in his name ; and none can expect to be received who do 
not come to God in this appointed way. 

It may truly be said, that if ancient Troy was safe from 
the hosts of Greece, so long as the sacred image of Minerva 
remained in her lofty shrine — so while the image of Christ 
remaineth in a soul, it is to that soul for a Palladium, 
which being preserved from all the corruptions which riot 
in hot confusion within, and all the foreign powers of Satan 
which can be embattled without its walls, no enemy shall be 
able to overthrow, or to lay its glory in the dust. 

The man who first constructed a ship, and launched forth 
the vessel from the shore upon the ocean, must have had 
faith in those principles which have now become so certain 
that we overlook their existence. Now a man builds a ship, 
and launches her forth upon the bosom of the deep, himself 
seated on the helm with triumph ; because he knows that, 
from the principle of the laws of matter, that vessel will be 
borne upon the bosom of the waters, and ride in triumph 



CHRIST. 



107 



there. Now you are not called upon to make the experi- 
ment for the first time ; though a knowledge of the princi- 
ples God has laid down might enable you to launch forth on 
the deep. But you have seen soul after soul, millions after 
millions of the people of God casting their troubles all upon 
Christ, launching forth upon the ocean of his love, who have 
been sustained and borne onward till they arrived at the 
haven of eternal rest. — The Preacher. 

Sometimes there were more kings than one at Sparta, who 
governed by joint authorities. A king was occasionally sent 
to some neighbouring state in character of a Spartan 
ambassador. Did he, when so sent, cease to be a king of 
Sparta, because he was also an ambassador ? No, he did not 
divest himself of his regal dignity ; but only added to it that 
of public deputation. So Christ, in becoming man, did not 
cease to be God ; but though he ever was, and still continued 
to be king of the whole creation, acted as the voluntary ser- 
vant and messenger of the Father. 

To the sun are owing the jewels and the metals that en- 
rich the bowels of our globe ; together with every herb, 
flower, and tree, that beautify its surface. 

" 'Tis Phoebus warms the rip'ning ore to gold." 

It is the solar influence which gives brilliancy to the dia- 
mond, verdure to the leaf, tints to the flower, and flavour to 
fruits. So the shining of Christ's presence on the soul 
gives existence and gradual maturity to the inward graces 
that enrich the heart, and to the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness which adorn the life of every true believer in 
his name. 

St. Paul finely illustrates the eternal generation of Christ 
by a grand idea taken from the material sun. The passage 
I refer to, is Heb. i. 3, where our adorable Surety is styled 
" the forth-beaming of the Father's glory." Perhaps no 
other object in the whole compass of nature could have sup- 
plied the apostle with a piece of imagery equally majestic, 
delicate, and just, Light proceeds from the majestic sun, 
yet the sun never existed without light. Christ is at once 
the begotten of the Father, and co-eternal with him. The 
sun's rays, or unintermittent efflux of light, are of the same 



108 



CHRISTIANITY. 



nature with the sun itself ; and Christ is a person in the 
same essence with the Father Almighty, and joint partaker 
of all his lovely, glorious, and infinite attributes. Could 
light be exterminated from the sun, the sun itself as such 
would inevitably be destroyed ; and to deny the deity of 
Jesus, is virtually to deny the existence of God. For who- 
soever denieth the Son, hath not the Father ; for he that 
acknowledgeth the Son, hath the Father also. 

It is a common saying, " He who buys land, buys stones," 
and all the weeds and rubbish which belong to the soil. 
When Christ accepted of us in the decree of election, (when 
the Father gave, and made us over to him,) and when he 
bought us afterwards with his blood, he took us, with all our 
imperfections and wretchedness, for better for worse, as a 
bridegroom takes his bride, and as a purchaser buys an 
estate. — Spencer. 

If I build a house, it is ten thousand to one if I do not 
afterwards find it defective in some respect or other : there 
is continually something to add, or something to alter, and 
something that may be improved for the better. — If I 
write a book, I find it imperfect. Some errata of the prin- 
ter, some defects in the language, something to add, or some- 
thing to retrench. So it is with all human works. The 
work of Christ's righteousness and redemption is the only 
finished, the only perfect work that ever was wrought among 
men. God give me faith in it ! 



When Eudamidas, the son of Archidamus, heard old Xe- 
nocrates disputing, he asked very soberly, " If the old man 
be yet disputing, and inquiring about wisdom, what time will 
he have to make use of it ?" — Christianity is all for 
practice. 

Christ will make all things plain to us, for we shall find 
Christianity the easiest, and the hardest thing in the world : 
it is like a secret in arithmetic, infinitely hard till it be 



CHRISTIANITY. 



109 



found out by a right operation, and then it is so plain that 
we wonder we did not understand it earlier. 

If in the phenomena of nature, and in the moral govern- 
ment of the Deity, there are many things confessedly mys- 
terious, is it not more than probable that this will be the 
case in a revelation of his will, when the subject is equally 
vast, and in some respects more comprehensive ? Without 
mysteries, the Gospel would not be like the works of God. 

The evidences of Christianity are of three kinds — histo- 
rical, internal, experimental. If we look back on the past 
history of Christianity, we find that it was introduced into 
the world under very remarkable circumstances. Miracles 
were performed, and future events foretold, in attestation of 
its divine origin. These, with the various circumstances 
connected with them, constitute the historical evidence of 
Christianity. If now we examine the book itself — its truths, 
its doctrines, its spirit — we find that it is exactly such, in 
its nature and tendency, as we should expect a message from 
Jehovah to such beings as we would be. This is the in- 
ternal evidence. Now if we look upou the effects which the 
Bible 'produces all around us, upon the guilt and misery of 
society, wherever it is faithfully and properly applied, we 
find it efficient for the purpose for which it was sent. It 
comes to cure the diseases of sin ; and it does cure them. It 
is intended to lead men to abandon vice and crime, and to 
bring them to God, and it does bring them by hundreds and 
thousands. If we make the experiment with it, we find that 
it succeeds in accomplishing its objects. This we may call 
the experimental evidence. These three kinds of evidence 
are so entirely distinct in their nature, that they apply to 
other subjects. You have a substance which you suppose is 
phosphorus. For what reason ? Why, in the first place, 
a boy in whom you place confidence brought it for you 
from the chemists, and he said it was phosphorus. This 
is the historical evidence : it relates to the history of the 
article before it came into your possession. In the second 
place you examine it, and it looks like phosphorus : its 
colour, consistence, and form, all agree. This is internal evi- 
dence. It results from internal examination. In the third 



1 10 CHRISTIANITY. 

§ 

place you try it: it burns with a most bright and vivid flame. 
This last may be called experimental evidence : and it ought 
to be noticed, that this last is the best of the three. ~No 
matter what grounds of doubt and hesitation there may be 
in regard to the first and second kinds of evidence, if the 
article simply proves its properties on trial. If any one 
should say to you, " I have reason to suspect that this mes- 
senger was not honest, he may have brought something 
else ; or this does not look exactly like phosphorus, it is 
too dark, or too hard ;" your reply would be, " Sir, there 
can be no possible doubt about it — just see how it burns !" 
Just so with the evidences of Christianity. It is interesting 
to look into the historical evidences that it is a revelation 
from heaven, and to contemplate also the internal indica- 
tions of its origin ; but, after all, the great evidence on which 
it is best for Christians to rely for the divine authority of 
the Bible, is its present, universal, and irresistible power in 
changing character, and saving from suffering and sin. — 
Jacob Abbott. 

If the Creator should intend to send a communication of 
his will to his creatures, we might have supposed that he 
would, at the same time of his making it, accompany the 
revelation with something or other which would be a proof 
that it really came from him. Monarchs have always had 
some way of authenticating their communications with their 
subjects or distant officers. This is the origin of the use of 
seals. The monarch at home possesses a seal of peculiar cha- 
racter. When he sends any communication to a distance, 
he impresses his seal upon the wax connected with the parch- 
ment upon which the letter is written. This gives it au- 
thority. No one else possessing such a seal, it is plain that 
no one can give the impression of it, and a seal of this kind 
is very difficult to be counterfeited. Various other devices 
have been resorted to by persons in authority to authenticate 
their communications. In the same manner we must have 
expected that Jehovah, when he sends a message to man, 
will have some way of convincing us that it really comes from 
him. We could not possibly tell what a pretended revela- 
tion comes to us, whether it was really a revelation from 



CHARACTER. 



Ill 



heaven, or a design of wicked men, unless God should set 
some mark upon it. or accompany it with some indications 
which bad men could not imitate. The Bible professes to 
have been accompanied by such marks. They are the 
power of working miracles and foretelling future events, 
possessed by those who brought the various messages it con- 
tains. It is plain that man, without divine assistance, could 
have had no such power. If this power, then, really accom- 
panied those who were the instruments of introducing the 
christian religion into the world, we may safely conclude 
that it was given them by God ; and as he would never give 
his power to sanction imposture, the message brought must 
be from him. — Ibid. 



(Character. 

Men are to be estimated by the mass of character. A 
block of tin has often a grain of silver, but still it is tin ; 
and a block of silver may have an alloy of tin, but still it is 
silver. The mass of Elijah's character was excellence, but 
with alloy. 

Common instruments for ascertaining the state of the air 
do not cause the heat, cold, moisture, or dampness, but only 
indicate these things ; — so dress, conformity to vain amuse- 
ments, indifference to the blessings of public worship, do 
not so much cause your unchristian state, as show the un- 
christian state you are in. 

Flowers, while they captivate us with their beauty, no 
less astonish us with their variety. Every country has its 
peculiar species. Some of these love the burning suns of 
India : some the barren deserts of Africa : and America 
and Xew Holland are as much distinguished by flowers of 
singular and rare beauty, as by their animals, which differ 
greatly from those of all the rest of the globe. Then, again, 
there are some flowers which are the natives only of tempe- 
rate climates, and a few are confined to the snowy regions 
of the North. Each has also its own select situation and 



112 



CHARACTER. 



soil; some choose the mountain, and some the valley : some 
flourish best in poor ground, and many are to be found 
only in the rich pastures. Nor are they less remarkable 
for their different qualities. In some are combined the 
qualities of fragrance and beauty ; but those which have 
little of the latter, have often valuable properties as medi- 
cine. Even those which were formerly esteemed poisonous, 
are now found to be useful to the skilful physician, and 
class among the most beneficial of his remedies. In short, 
every combination of beauty and utility that the mind can 
conceive, and far more than it could have imagined, is to 
be found in those flowers which are so widely scattered over 
the fair face of the whole earth. What a pleasing picture 
of the vast diversity of character which adorns the members 
of the church of Christ ! The brilliant hues of some flowers, 
and the sweet fragrance of others, aptly represent those 
who " adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour in all 
things," and whose example diffuses the sweet savour of 
life and salvation to all around them. But there are others 
of a humbler class, which have peculiar excellencies of their 
own, which the skilful eye of the observer can trace with 
as much ease as the experienced florist discern the beauties 
of his favourite flowers. In the christian church the gifts 
and graces of men widely differ. Some are adapted to adorn 
one station of life, and some another ; these to flourish best 
in the humble valley of life, and others to bear the rough 
blasts of the mountain. The soil of poverty is best suited to 
unfold the qualities of some, and others flourish well amidst 
the strong sunshine of prosperity, and the fertile soil in 
which their lot has been planted. All, however, are alike 
nourished by the same general means of grace, though the 
Spirit " divideth to every man severally as he will ;" but 
prayer, the breath of heaven, is the atmosphere in which all 
must live. All must be baptized and watered by the same 
Spirit, and be fed with a due portion of the wholesome food 
of God's word. Thus nurtured and strengthened, every 
member of the Church, in his proper season and place, like 
the flowers of the garden, adorns the situation which he 
fills, becomes a bright and beautiful example of godliness in 



COMMUNION. 



113 



his particular sphere of duty, and abundantly proclaims the 
wisdom and goodness of Him who transplanted him from the 
wilderness of this world, to a place where he may adorn and 
magnify the riches of divine grace. — Light from the West. 

Iron, which is one of the baser metals, may be hammered, 
and subjected to the most intense heat of the furnace ; but 
though you may soften it for the time, you can never make 
it ductile like the precious metals. But gold, which is the 
most excellent of all, is the most pliant and easily wrought 
on, being capable of being drawn out to a degree which ex- 
ceeds belief. So the most excellent tempers are the most 
easily wrought on by spiritual counsel and godly admoni- 
tions, but the viler sort, like the iron, are stubborn, and 
cannot be made pliant. 

The good or evil propensities of one age are, with their 
virtues and vices, transferred to the next. 'Tis extraordi- 
nary when an evil child becomes a sober, modest youth, or 
a dissolute youth becomes a godly man. The seed of the 
hemlock may pass into another stage, and be seen to blos- 
som into flower, but it still retains its deadly principle. 
Childhood is as the seed in whose virtue the tree of life is 
contained. The characters that are cut in the bark, when 
the tree grows, deeply and visibly remain. 'Tis painful as 
death to change a sinful life of many years, and begin a 
contrary course of actions. There are two great branches 
of folly which spring out of a vicious youth : youth will not 
do what it can ; and manhood afterwards cannot do when 
it would. 



Communion. 

It has been the pleasing compact of some, closely joined 
in heart, but widely distant in place, to look at the same 
hour on the same luminary, to watch the beam of the 
same rising moon, or evening star, and thus to imagine a 

i 



114 



COMMUNION. 



kind of sensible union, by being alike and at once present 
to the same beautiful object. How does it heighten and 
substantiate this device of friendship (which else is compa- 
ratively a fruitless and empty refinement) to commune not 
merely with a bright emblem of the divine bounty, but 
with the omnipresent Benefactor himself ; to pour out our 
mutual intercession before the " Father of these heavenly 
lights, with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning." 
My dearest friend may be in another hemisphere, or, though 
but a few leagues divide us, a cloud may conceal that star 
from one which rises in brightness to the other ; but if we 
devoutly intercede for each other's welfare, before Him by 
whose presence all times are compressed, our supplications, 
whether offered at one or at different hours, form a real and 
intimate communion with each other, and with Him — a com- 
munion fraught, we trust, not only with soothing sentiments, 
but with real blessings. — The Portfolio. 

The showers of Britain and Sumatra fall, or flow into the 
same mighty deep ; the tears of christian sympathy poured 
out to Gocl, though shed in the remotest climates, may be 
said to drop into the same ocean of loving-kindness, and be 
mingled there. 

If, in the church of the first-born Christians in the 
earthly Jerusalem, the band of charity was so strict, that 'tis 
said the multitude of believers were of one heart and one soul ; 
how much more intimate and inseparable is the union of the 
saints in Jerusalem above, where every one loves another as 
himself ? 'Tis recorded of Alexander, that entering with 
Hephestion, his favourite, into the pavilion of the mother of 
Darius, then his prisoner, she bowed to the favourite, as 
having a greater appearance of majesty, thinking him to be 
Alexander ; but, advised of her error, she humbly begged 
his pardon. To whom the generous king replied, You did 
not err, mother ; this also is Alexander. Such was the affec- 
tion, that whoever was taken of them, the other was taken 
in him ; the less ascending in the greater, without degrading 
the greater in the less. This is a copy, though a faint one, 
of the holy love of the blessed. — Spencer. 



COMFORT, CONSOLATION. 



115 



He that walks in communion of saints, travels in company ; 
he dwells in a city where one house keeps up another, to 
which Jerusalem is compared. 

If we desire to be preserved from sin, let us avoid engaging 
company ; many persons would resist the force of natural 
inclination, but when that is excited by the examples of 
others, they are easily vanquished. A pure stream passing 
through a sink will run thick and muddy. And the " evil 
communication " will leave some of its corrupting influence 
to pollute the purest morals. On the contrary, society with 
the saints is a happy advantage to make us like them. As 
waters that pass through medicinal minerals do not come 
out the same waters, but, being impregnated with their 
properties, they derive a healing tincture from them, so it is 
impossible to be much with the Lord's people without im- 
bibing something of their motives and principles, and a 
desire to be influenced by their spirit. No society can be to 
us a matter of indifference, but must operate for good, or ill. 
The present world is a continual temptation. We are in a 
state of warfare ; though not always in fight, yet always 
in the field, exposed to our spiritual enemies that war 
against our souls : and our vigilance and care should be 
accordingly. 



Comfort, Consolation. 

A believer, with regard to spiritual enjoyments, resembles 
a barometer. As the silver in this instrument rises, when 
the sun shines, and the weather is fine ; but sinks, when the 
air is heavy, and loaded with damps ; so the Christian's sen- 
sible comfort rises when the Holy Spirit's countenance 
shines upon the soul, but subsides when left to the evil 
workings of his own heart. 

The sun is commonly said to rise and set. This, however, 
is spoken merely in complaisance to appearances. The 
truth is, that when the horizon of the earth gets below the 

i 2 



116 



COMFORT, CONSOLATION. 



sun, we then perceive his beams, and when the horizon gets 
above it, we lose sight of them. Here remember, as before, 
that in all our varying frames of soul, the variations are not 
in God, but in ourselves. Remember, too, that you must lie 
low at his feet, if you would bask in the shinings of his 
face. Get above his word and ordinances, and no wonder 
if the horror of a great darkness fall upon you. 

If your souls draw their comfort from any creature, you 
know they must outlive that creature, and what then will 
you do for comfort ? Besides, as your comforts are, so are 
you. The food of every creature is suitable to its nature. 
You see divers creatures feeding upon several parts of the 
same herb — the bee upon the flower, the bird upon the seeds, 
the sheep upon the stalk, and the swine upon the root ; 
according to their nature, so is their food. Sensual men feed 
upon sensual things ; spiritual men upon spiritual things ; 
as your food is, so are you. If carnal comforts can content 
thy heart, sure thy heart must then be a carnal heart. Yea, 
and let Christians themselves take heed, that they fetch not 
their consolations out of themselves instead of Christ. Your 
graces and duties are excellent means and instruments, but 
not the ground- work and foundation of your comfort ; they 
are useful buckets to draAv, but not the well itself, in which 
the springs of consolation rise. If you put your duties in 
the room of Christ, Christ will put your comforts out of the 
reach of your duties. 

The planet Yenus preaches an important lesson to the 
followers of Christ, viz. that the earth was never yet known 
to come between her and the sun. Whence the languor, 
and the spiritual declensions, the darkness, and the soul 
distresses, of many a child of light ? Come they not very 
frequently, from giving way to earthly cares, earthly joys, 
and earthly pursuits? We let these things shut out the 
sun. No wonder that we move heavily, and walk in the 
dark, while we cultivate that " friendship with this world, 
which is enmity with God." But if, on the contrary, our 
" affections are set on things above ;" if our treasure and our 
hearts are with Christ in heaven ; we shall, probably, " walk 
in the light, as he is in the light," and enjoy an abiding 



COVETOUSNESS. 



117 



perception of interest in his precious blood which " cleanseth 
from all sin." 

When a saint is in darkness, all his expedients for deli- 
vering himself out of it are vain ; they are, literally, dark 
lanthorns, and will not afford him a single gleam to see by. 
The day will not dawn, nor the shadows flee away, until the 
Sun of Righteousness arises with healing in his wings. 
And we can no more command the rising of the spiritual 
sun within, than we can that of the natural sun without. 
We can only, like Paul's mariners, cast anchor, and wish for 
day, " looking unto Jesus." 

Hast thou seen the sun shine forth in February, and the 
sky blue, and the hedge-rows bursting into bud, and the 
primrose peeping beneath the bank, and the birds singing 
in the bushes ? Thou hast thought that spring was already 
come in its beauty and sweet odours. But a few days, and 
the clouds returned, and the atmosphere was chilled, and the 
birds were mute, and snow was on the ground, and thou 
hast said that spring would never come. And thus some- 
times the young convert finds his fears removed, and the 
comforts of the gospel shed abroad in his heart, and praise 
and thanksgiving and a new song put in his mouth. And 
he deems unadvisedly that his troubles are past for ever, 
But awhile, and his doubts return, and his comforts die 
away 3 and his light is taken from him, and his spirit is over- 
whelmed, and he is fain to conclude that salvation and all its 
blessings are not for him. But the spring, though late, 
shall break at last. " Why art thou cast down, 0 my soul I 
and why art thou disquieted within me ?" Psalm xlii. 1 1 . 



(Ecbetousness. 

It is a common saying, that swine are good for nothing 
whilst alive ; not good to bear or carry as the horse, nor to 
draw as the ox ; nor to clothe as the sheep ; nor to give 
milk as the cow ; nor to keep the house as the clog ; but fed 



118 



COVETOUSNESS. 



only to the slaughter. So a covetous rich man, just like a 
hog, doth no good with his riches whilst he liveth ; but when 
he is dead, his riches come to be disposed of : the riches of a 
sinner are laid up for the just. — Spencer. 

It is said of Catiline, that he was ever not more prodigal 
of his own, as desirous of other men's estates. A ship may 
be overladen with silver, even unto sinking, and yet have 
compass and bulk enough to hold ten times more. So a 
covetous wretch, though he have enough to sink him, yet 
never hath he enough to satisfy him ; like that miserable 
caitiff mentioned by Theocritus, first wishing that he had a 
thousand sheep in his flock ; and then when he had them, 
he would have cattle without number. Thus a circle cannot 
fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world (if it were to 
be compassed) the heart of man ; a man may as easily fill 
a chest with grace as the heart with gold ; the air fills not 
the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man. — 
Ibid. 

Old men are usually querulous, impatient, discontented, 
suspicious, vainly fearful of contempt or want : and from 
thence, or some other secret cause, are covetous and sordid 
in sparing, against all the rules of reason and religion. 
Covetousness is styled by the apostle " the root of all evil ;" 
and as the root in winter retains the sap, when the branches 
have lost their leaves and verdure, so in old age, the winter 
of life, covetousness preserves its vigour when other vices 
are fallen off. Usually the nearer men approach to the 
earth they are more earthly minded, and, which is strange to 
amazement, at the sunset of life are providing for a long 
day. 

Man is by nature a social creature, fit for commerce. A 
covetous body is a wen of the body politic, not a member ; a 
wen, by sucking the nourishment that is due to other parts, 
groweth monstrous and ugly in itself, and robbeth the body; 
so he being altogether for private gain, perverteth that which 
is the cement of all confederacies and societies, a care of the 
common- weal ; bodies are preserved when the members care 
one for another. — Spencer. 



CUSTOM. 



119 



Custom. 

When Ulysses, in his travels, had left his men with Circe 
that witch, she changed them all into divers sorts of beasts, 
as into dogs, swine, lions, bears, elephants, &c. Ulysses, 
when he returned, complained that Circe had done him 
wrong in turning his men into beasts. Circe replied, that 
the benefit of speech was left unto them all, and so he 
might demand of them whether they would be changed into 
men again, or not : he began first with the hog, and de- 
manded of him whether he would be a man again ; he 
answered, that he was more contented with that sort of life 
than ever he was before ; for when he was a man he was 
troubled with a thousand cares, and one cross came on the 
neck of another, and one grief followed another ; but now 
he had no care but to fill his belly, and lie down and sleep : 
and so he demanded of all the rest ; but they refused to 
turn men again, until he came to the elephant, who, in his 
first estate had been a philosopher ; he demanded of him 
whether he would be a man again ; yea, that he would with 
all his heart, because he knew what was the difference 
betwixt a man and a beast. Thus creatures given over to 
their sensual appetites, transformed and changed by Satan 
into beasts, in their hearts they desire never to return to a 
better state, but to live still in their swinish pleasures, and 
to follow their sinful appetites ; but those who have the 
spirit of grace in their hearts, and are fallen into some 
heinous sin, having tasted of both the states, like the elephant, 
they cannot be quiet till they are at their former state again. 
— Spencer. 

It is said of a prisoner that, standing at the bar indicted 
for felony, was asked by the judge what he could say for 
himself; "Truly, my lord," said he, " I did mean no hurt when 
I stole ; it is an evil custom that I have gotten ; I have been 
used to it ever since I knew anything." " Why then," says 
the judge, " if it be thy custom to steal, it is my custom to 
hang up thieves." So, if it be any man's custom to swear upon 



120 



CREATURES. 



every slight occasion, it is God's custom not to hold him 
guiltless that taketh his name in vain. Is it any man's 
custom to be lewd and be drunk ? it is God's custom to 
judge him ; whatsoever the sin be, there's no pleading of 
custom to excuse it, as that they meant no harm, it was 
against their will, &c. All the fig-leaves that can be gathered 
and sewed ever so close, will not hide sin from the eyes of 
heaven. God will certainly bring them to judgment. — 
Ibid. 

Water may easily be drawn up, but no art or industry can 
make it run backward in its own channel ; it was by a 
miracle that the river Jordan was driven back ; and it is 
very near, if not altogether, a miracle, that a man " accus- 
tomed to do evil should learn to do well ;" that the tide of 
sin, which before did run so strong, should be so easily 
turned. Sin may indeed be resisted and its violent actings 
restrained, but that the sinner which before was falling hell- 
ward, and wanted neither wind nor tide to carry him, should 
now alter his course, and tack about for heaven, this is a 
work indeed, and that a hard one too ; to see the earthly 
man become heavenly ; to see a sinner more contrary to 
himself in the way of holiness, is as strange as to see heavy 
bodies fly upward, or the bowl run contrary to its own bias. 
Break off the sinful custom, not merely the act. He that 
would kill Hydra had better strike off one neck than five 
heads ; fell the tree, and the branches are soon cut off. — 
Ibid. 



Creatures. 

When we view the creature, as it is annexed to God, and 
subservient to him, it may have an answerable trust and love. 
The smallest twig that is fast to the tree may help you out 
of the water if you lay hold on it. But if it be broken from 
the tree, it will deceive you, though you hold it ever so 
fast. 



CREATURES. 



121 



Psalm lxix. 29. A sinner, like a spider, sucks poison out 
of everything, or, like the sea, he turns the fresh supply of 
the sweet river waters into salt waters ; so their table, their 
welfare, become a curse and a snare to them. 

The curse of the creature is, as it were, the poison and 
contagion of it : and let a man mix poison in the most deli- 
cate wine, it will, but so much the easier, by the nimbleness 
of the spirits there, invade the ports of the body, and tor- 
ment the bowels. Gold of itself is a precious thing ; but to 
be shackled with fetters of gold, to have it turned into a use 
of bondage, adds mockery to the affliction ; and far more 
precious to a particular man is a chain of iron which draws 
him out of a pit, than a chain of gold which clogs him in a 
prison ; a key of iron which lets him out of a dungeon, than 
a bar of gold that shuts him in. If a man should have a 
great diamond, curiously cut into sharp angles, worth many 
thousand pounds ? in his reins, no man would count him 
rich, but a miserable and a dead man. This is just the case 
between a man and the creatures of themselves, without 
Christ to sanctify them unto us : though the things be excel- 
lent in their own being, yet, mingled with our corruptions 
and lusts, they are turned into poison, into the gall of asps 
within a man ; they will not suffer him to feel any quietness. 
" In the fulness of his sufficiency, he shall be in straits ; and 
while he is eating, the fury of wrath shall rain down upon 
him." 

If a man consider his own former experiences, and the ex- 
amples of others, that bring the vanity of these earthly 
things into mind ; how some of his choicest pleasures have 
now outlived him, and are expired ; how the Lord hath 
snatched from his dearest embracements those idols which 
are set up against his glory ; how many of his hopes have 
failed, of his expectations and presumptions proved abortive ; 
how much of money, — at one time a sickness — at another 
a suit — at a third a thief — at a fourth a shipwreck or a mis- 
carriage — at a fifth, yea at a twentieth time, a lust hath con- 
sumed and eaten out ; how many examples there are in the 
world of withered and blasted estates, of the curse of God, 
not only, like a moth, insensibly consuming, but, like a lion, 



122 



CONVERSION. 



suddenly tearing* asunder great possessions, — he will not 
seek happiness in the creature. 

The creature can do nothing but as it is commanded by 
God ; it is the vanity of the creature that it can do nothing 
of itself, except there be an influence from God ; as for ex- 
ample, take the hand — it moves because there is an imper- 
ceptible influence from the will that stirs it. So the crea- 
ture moving, and giving comfort unto us, it is God's will it 
should do it, and so it is applied to this or that action. The 
mechanic uses certain tools in making a piece of furniture ; 
there is an influence from his art, that guides his hand to 
the work ; so the creature's working is by a secret concourse 
from God, doing thus, or thus, whether it be this way or 
that way, all is from God. — Spencer. 



Conversion. 

A man may be converted by reading, as Luther said he 
was ; it is the confession of Luther, that the reading of 
John Huss' works was the main cause of his conversion ; 
and St. Augustin's taking up of the book, and reading that 
of the apostle, " not in chambering and wantonness," was, 
by God's especial favour, a means to draw him out of that 
puddle of sin wherein he had a long time wallowed. Thus 
there is a blessing for readers. And there may a fish or 
two hang on the net, being let down on a heap ; and that's 
a chance : it is not the net lapped up together that bringeth 
in the draught, but hauled out at length and spread all 
abroad that closeth in the fish ; so it is the spreading of the 
word, the stretching of it out upon every soul present by 
the work of the ministry, that is the way to catch many; so 
that the reason of such ill success in many ministers is not 
spreading the net, not dilating upon the matter in hand, 
whereby their preaching seems to be little better than read- 
ing. — Spencer. 

Affections to God must be constant. The air (you know) 



CONVERSION. 



123 



is light, and yet we call it not a lightsome body, because it 
is lighted by the presence of another, and when that body 
is removed, it is dark ; for the air is dark in the night, when 
the sun is absent ; as it is light when the sun is present : 
those only we call lightsome bodies, whose light is abiding 
and rcoted in themselves. So they are not godly persons, 
that may have some injections of godly thoughts and godly 
affections cast into them, and be in them for a spirit, and 
for a little flash, (like a flash of lightning in the air, and soon 
gone,) but it must be rooted and grounded in a man, so as 
that it will continue so, as that the exercise of graces, and 
duties towards God, should be frequent and quotidian, daily 
to have converse and communion with God, to walk with 
him, and talk with him, to approve ourselves to him, to set 
ourselves in his presence, to make a constant trade with 
him, to be his day's man, to work by the day with him, and 
withal to hold out to the end. — Ibid. 

The suspension of the ferocity of the savage animals 
during their continuance in the ark, is an apt figure of the 
change which takes place in sinners when they enter the 
true ark, the church of Christ. It may also serve to remind 
us of the hypocrite's outward good behaviour, though his 
nature is not changed. 

If the works of a watch are out of order, it is of no use to 
be continually setting the hands, they will soon be wrong 
again; you must go to the watchmaker's to repair the 
interior mechanism : so it is for no purpose for a vicious 
man to be now and then attempting some little reformation 
in outward conduct, he must also pray for the renewal of 
his heart. 

A man often passes through many stages before he be- 
comes truly converted to God. When he is first awakened 
to serious impressions, and sees his folly of pursuing intently 
worldly things, to the neglect of the more durable riches, 
he resembles a boy emerging from his childhood, who throws 
aside his trifles and playthings for amusements of a higher 
and more intellectual kind. He now sets himself with all dili- 
gence to working out his own salvation in his own strength ; 
multiplies his religious duties, and reforms his bad habits ; 



124 



CONVERSION, 



yet all this while he is like one who has been employed in 
new-painting and varnishing a wooden statue, it has no life 
within. But when the Holy Spirit influences his heart, and 
" reveals Christ in him," he is in the state of one who has 
awakened from a dream, (in which he has been acting a 
fictitious part,) to live and move, and use all his faculties in 
reality, and enter on the great business of life. 

Sometimes, by the force of truth, the outer door of the un- 
derstanding is broken up, while the inner door of the will 
remains fast bolted. 

Every motion proceeds either from impulsion, or attraction. 
The motion produced from impulse or strokes is usually 
violent, irregular, or soon lost. The motion produced by 
attraction is mild, regular, and lasting. The motion derived 
from impulse proceeds in a line; but the motion derived 
from attraction, on the contrary, tends towards the moving 
power. This will show the manner in which conversion is 
effected. Conversion is attraction, or drawing. Our Lord 
declares that the effect of his death " shall draw all men 
unto him." Thus the cross of Christ draws and attracts. 
Conversion is the attraction of the cross — it's a drawing 
nigher and nigher to the power that attracts — the Being 
that draws us — even to God ! Uniformly, and without 
ceasing, it leads men farther and farther from the w T orld and 
sin, and brings them nearer and nearer to Christ and to 
God, until at last they unite, and the convert becomes one 
with Christ, and God. 

He that is locked up in a dungeon, or otherwise immured 
within some darksome place, can, and may, easily discover 
the very moment of time, when either the least beam of the 
sun, or glimmer of skylight, shall break in upon him ; where- 
as, on the other side, he that is in the open air is very sensible 
that the day is broke, that the sun is up, but cannot make 
out any certain account of the springing of the one, or the 
rising of the other. Thus it is in the matter of our spiritual 
calling ; it is possible that a man may know the very time and 
moment when the day-spring from on high did visit him, 
when it was the good pleasure of God to dart into his soul 
the grace of his blessed Spirit, as in the case of St. Paul, the 



CONVERSION. 



125 



good centurion, the jailor, the Jewish converts, and some 
others ; but this is not ordinary. " The wind bloweth where 
it listeth," (yea, and when it listeth too,) even so the Spirit, 
both time and place uncertain ; some are called at the first 
hour, that is, in their infancy or childhood, as Samuel, Jeremy, 
and John the Baptist ; some in the third hour, that is, in 
their youth, as Daniel the prophet, and John the evangelist ; 
others at the sixth hour, in their middle age, as Peter and 
Andrew: others at the eleventh hour, in their old age, as 
Gamaliel and Joseph of Arimathea ; and some again not 
only in the last hour of the day, but even in the last minute 
of that hour, as the thief upon the cross. So if a man can 
but make out unto his soul that he is certainly called, it 
matters not much for the time when, nor the place where, 
both of them being so uncertain. 

Doth Christ compel men against their wills to become 
subject unto him ? No, in no wise. He hath ordered to 
bring them in by way of voluntariness, and obedience. And 
herein is the wisdom of his power seen, that his grace shall 
mightily produce those effects in men, which their hearts 
shall most obediently and willingly consent unto ; that he is 
able to use the proper and genuine motions of second 
causes to the producing of his own most holy, wise, and 
merciful purposes. As we see human wisdom can so order, 
moderate, and make use of natural motions, that by them 
artificial effects shall be produced ; as in a clock, although 
there is a plan laid down for the division of time, yet it is 
the natural motion of the weight or plummet which causes 
the artificial distribution of hours and minutes, and the clock 
of itself marks each succeeding portion, independent of any 
other agent ; as in a mill, although the machinery is so con- 
structed as to answer a given purpose, yet the natural 
motion of the wind or water causeth an artificial effect in 
grinding the corn. How much more, then, shall the wisdom 
of Almighty God, whose weakness is stronger, and whose 
foolishness is wiser than men, be able so to use, incline, and 
order the wills of men, without destroying them, or their 
liberty, as that thereby the kingdom of his Son shall be set 
up among them ; by the secret, ineffable, and most sweet ope- 



126 



CONVERSION. 



ration of the Spirit of grace, opening the eyes, convincing the 
judgment, persuading the affections, inclining the heart, giv- 
ing an understanding, quickening and knocking at the consci- 
ence, a man shall be swayed unto the obedience of Christ, 
and shall come unto him so certainly as if he were drawn, 
and yet so freely as if he were left unto himself. For in 
the calling of men by the word, there is a ' trahere' and a 
6 venire.' The Father draweth, and the man cometh. That 
notes efficacy of grace ; and this the sweetness of grace. 
Grace worketh strongly, and therefore God is said to draw; 
and it worketh sweetly too, and therefore man is said to 
come. 

When you are weighing things in the balance you may 
add grain after grain, and it makes no turning or motion at 
all till you come to the very last grain, and then suddenly 
that end which was downward is turned upward. When 
you stand at a loss between two highways, not knowing 
which way to go, as long as you deliberate you stand still ; 
all the reasons that come into your mind do not stir you ; but 
the last reason which resolves you sets you in motion. So it 
is (most often) in a sinner's heart and life ; he is not changed, 
(but preparing towards it,) while he is deliberating whether 
he should choose Christ or the world. But the last reason 
which comes in and determines his will to Christ, and makes 
him resolve and enter a firm covenant with him, this makes 
a greater change than even is made by any work in the 
world. For how can there be a greater than a turning of 
the soul from the creature to the Creator ? So distant are 
the terms of this change. After this one turning act Christ 
hath that heart, and the main heart and endeavours of the 
life, which the world had before. The man hath a new end, 
a new guide, and a new master. 

Converting grace, like thaw, softens the heart that was 
hard, moistens and melts it into tears of repentance, and 
makes good affections to flow which were before stopped up ; 
the change, like the thaw, is universal, yet gradual, very evi- 
dent, yet often unaccountable. 

In the matter of conversion see to it that you do not set 
your own experience as a standard to try others by. Many 



CONVERSION. 



127 



will say you are not Christians, because you have not had 
the same terrible experience with themselves. You may as 
well say to a neighbour you have not had a child , for you 
were not in labour all night. The question is, whether a 
real child is born, not how long was the preceding pain, but 
whether it were productive of a new birth, and whether 
Christ have been formed in your hearts ; it is the birth proves 
the reality of the thing. 

An unrenewed man may reform. Under the influence of 
shame or remorse, or terror, or interest, he may improve 
his conversation, his temper, his manner. But if this change 
has not sprung from the interference of Him who alone sets 
men free from sin — if it does not spring from a knowledge 
and faith of his mediation, and from those principles which 
this acknowledgment of his mediation involves, and if the 
change be not more radical and deep than we have now sup- 
posed, the soul is as really under the dominion of evil as it 
was before. In that soul the reign of God is established no 
more than ever. It owns a law above his law — the law of 
its own inclinations and interests. And the struggle, to use 
a figure, is only a contest for precedency among the various 
bands of the enemy — not a contest betwixt the interests of 
the enemy and those of God. It is the conflict of corrup- 
tion with corruption ; not of corruption with grace. It is an 
effort to give a new form to the old government, whilst all 
its worst corruptions are retained, not to subvert and 
abolish that government, and to substitute a new and holy 
one in its place. 

It is only by scrutinising the heart that we can know it. 
It is only by knowing the heart that we can reform the life. 
Any careless observer, indeed, when his watch goes wrong, 
may see that it does so by casting his eyes on the dial-plate, 
but it is only the artist who takes it to pieces, and examines 
every wheel separately, and the spring, and who, by ascer- 
taining the precise cause of the irregularity, can set the 
machine right, and restore the disordered movements. 

One Mr. Simon Brown, an eminent dissenting minister 
in London, became at one time so low spirited, as actually to 
believe that his soul was annihilated, and that he had no 



128 



CONVERSION. 



more soul than a stock or a stone. And yet he wrote, and 
preached, and prayed, and reasoned with so much power, 
liveliness, and good sense, that he was more like a man with 
two souls, than like a man with none. Some of the Lord's 
people who are disposed to question the truth of their con- 
version, live so conscientiously, feel their imperfections so 
deeply, prize Christ so highly, and long for his presence so 
ardently, that they demonstrate themselves to be converted 
persons. Just as Mr. Brown, who persuaded himself that 
he had no soul, proved that he had one by the very argu- 
ments which he brought against it. 

It is difficult to determine, by the eye, the precise moment 
of daybreak ; but the light advances from early dawn, and 
the sun arises at the appointed hour. Such is the progress 
of divine light in the mind ; the first streaks of the dawn are 
seldom perceived, but, by degrees, objects till then unthought 
of are disclosed. The evil of sin, the danger of the soul, 
the reality and importance of eternal things, are appre- 
hended, and a hope of mercy, through a crucified Saviour, 
is discovered, which prevents the sinner from falling into 
absolute despair ; but for a time all is indistinct and con- 
fused. But the light increases, the sun arises, the glory of 
God in the person of Jesus Christ shines in upon the soul. 
As the sun can be seen only by its own light, and diffuses 
that light by which other objects are clearly perceived, so 
Christ crucified is the sun in the system of revealed truth, 
and the right knowledge of the doctrines of his cross satis- 
fies the inquiring mind, and proves itself to be the " one 
thing needful." 

Sometimes you shall have impetuous and heavy showers 
bursting from the angry clouds. They lash the plains, and 
make the rivers flow. A storm brings them, and a deluge 
follows them. At other times, thin gentle dews are formed 
in the serene evening air. They steal down by slow degrees 
with insensible stillness : so subtle that they deceive the 
nicest eye ; so silent that they escape the most delicate ear ; 
and when fallen, so very light, that they neither bruise the 
tenderest, nor oppress the weakest flowers. Very different 
operations ! Yet each concurs in the same beneficial end, 



CONVERSION. 



129 



and both impart fertility to the lap of nature. So I have 
known some persons reclaimed from the unfruitful works of 
darkness, by violent and severe means. The Almighty ad- 
dressed their stubborn hearts, as he addressed the Israelites 
of Sinai, with lightning in his eyes, and thunder in his 
voice. The conscience, smitten with a sense of guilt and 
apprehension of eternal vengeance, trembled through all 
her powers ; just as that strong mountain tottered to its 
centre. Pangs of remorse and agonies of fear preceded 
their new birth. They were reduced to the last extremities, 
almost overwhelmed with despair, before they found rest in 
Jesus Christ. Others have been recovered from a vain con- 
versation, by methods more mild and attractive. The " Father 
of spirits" applied himself to their teachable minds, in " a 
still and small voice." His grace came down like the rain 
into a fleece of wool ; or as these softening drops, which 
now water the earth. The kingdom of God took place in 
their souls, without noise or observation. They passed from 
death unto life, from a carnal to a regenerate state, by 
almost imperceptible advances. The transition resembled 
the growth of corn : was very visible when effected, though 
scarcely sensible while accomplishing. 

We do not mean to assert that any new faculties of mind 
will be implanted, but that there will be a new impulse 
given to those which you do possess — new motives, new 
desires, new actions, new conduct. Nay, all obey the hand 
of another master, and are under the direction of a new in- 
fluence, like a harp of which the strings remain the same ; 
but the tones and music are various, as the hand that moves 
them varies. With one it may send forth harsh and dis- 
cordant sounds ; but, played on by another, the same chords 
ravish the senses with their rich and flowing music. 

One hinderance of conversion is foolish self-love, that makes 
men unwilling to know the worst of themselves, and so keep- 
eth them from believing their sinfulness and misery ; and 
causeth them to presume and keep up false deceiving hopes 
that they may be saved, whether they are converted or not ; 
or that they are converted when indeed they are not. They 
think it every one's duty to think well of themselves, and 

K 



130 



CONVERSION. 



therefore they will do so ; and so, while they hope they are 
converted already, or may be saved without conversion, no 
wonder if they look not seriously after it. Like many a sick 
man that 1 have known in the beginning of a consumption, 
or some grievous disease, they hope there is no danger in it ; 
or they hope it will go away of itself, and it is but some cold ; 
or they hope that such or such medicine will cure it, till 
they are past hope, and then they must give up these hopes 
and their lives together, whether they will or no. Just so 
do poor wretches by their souls. They know that all is not 
well with them, but they hope God is merciful, that he will 
not condemn them ; or they hope to be converted some time 
hereafter ; or they hope that less ado may serve their 
turn, and that their good wishes and prayers may save their 
souls ; and thus, in these hopes they hold on, till they find 
themselves to be past remedy, and their hopes and they be 
dead together. I speak not this without the Scripture ; 
Prov. xi. 17; Job xxvii. 8, 9; xi. 20. There is scarce 
a greater hinderance of conversion, than these false deceiving 
hopes of sinners. 

Lady Huntingdon was once speaking to a workman, who 
was repairing a garden wall, and pressing him to take some 
thought concerning eternity, and the state of his soul. 
Some years afterwards, she spake to another on the same 
subject, and said to him, " Thomas, I fear you never pray, 
nor look to Christ for salvation." " Your Ladyship is mis- 
taken," answered the man ; " I heard what passed between 
you and James at such a time, and the word you designed 
for him took effect on me." — " How did you hear it ?" — " I 
heard it on the other side of the garden, through a hole in 
the wall, and shall never forget the impression I received." 
— Thus will the blessed Spirit even make his way through 
the hole of a wall, rather than an elect sinner shall die un- 
converted. 

Suppose a child accidentally falls into a pit, and some 
person comes to help him out. Instead of thankfully 
accepting the offer, he says " No ; I will not have you to help 
me out; I wish some one else to assist me." He is told by 
his father, that he shall not be assisted by any other person ; 



COVENANT. 



131 



yet he still prefers remaining in the pit to accepting that 
person's offer ; — does it not indicate strong aversion to him ? 
Yet it is precisely thus that the sinner treats Christ. He 
is exposed to danger, from which none but Christ can deliver 
him. Yet, rather than accept his assistance, he tries every 
other method, again and again ; and when he finds all his 
efforts unsuccessful, he practically says, " I had rather perish 
than be saved by Christ !" How justly might the Saviour 
take him at his word, and leave him to perish ! 

Suppose a number of persons standing by a river's side. 
They are invited to drink of its waters, but they are not 
thirsty, and therefore do not desire them. At length their 
thirst is excited, and they look round for a vessel with which 
to take up some water. But their vessels are all filled with 
some worthless thing, which they are as yet unwilling to 
part with. But as their thirst increases, they become willing 
to relinquish what they had thought of so much value, and, 
finally, emptying their vessels of this rubbish, and receiving 
the water, they quench their thirst. Thus it is with sinners : 
Jesus Christ invites them to come to him, the fountain of 
living waters. But they decline his invitations — their 
hearts being filled with the treasures of earth. They do 
not thirst for Christ, till God takes away the love of this 
world and its vanities, and the Holy Spirit fills them with 
desire to come to him. Then they hunger and thirst after 
righteousness, and are prepared to receive Christ. 



We forget the comfortable condition we are in under the 
covenant of grace. Weaknesses do not break covenant 
with God ; they do not between husband and wife : and 
shall we make ourselves more compassionate than Christ, 
who maketh himself a pattern of love to all ? 

The difference between the mercy of the first and second 
covenant (and it is a great difference) is this : God did out 
of mercy propose salvation unto Adam, as an infinite reward 

k 2 



132 



COVENANT. 



of such a finite obedience as Adam was able, by his own 
created abilities, to have performed : as if a man should give 
a day-labourer a hundred pounds for his day's work, which 
perform indeed he did by his own strength, but yet did not 
merit the thousandth part of that wages which he receives. 
But God's mercy unto us is this, that he is pleased to be- 
stow upon us, not only the reward, but the work and merit 
which procured the reward : that he is pleased in us to 
reward another man's work, even the work of Christ our 
head : as if, when one captain only had, by his own wisdom 
and hand, discomfited and defeated an enemy, the prince, 
notwithstanding, should reward his alone seryice with the 
advancement of the whole army which he led. 

The covenant of works seems to have been discovered all 
at once to Adam on the day on which he was created. But 
the covenant of faith was not unfolded all at once, but at 
sundry times, and by several steps and degrees. As the 
beauty of the year increaseth to perfection by degrees — from 
winter's nakedness and deformity to the buds of herbs and 
trees; from buds to fragrant flowers and blossoms; from 
flowers and blossoms to green growing, and ripe fruit. Or 
as the light of day groweth by degrees to its perfect glory. 
First it is daybreak, day dawning, or the peering of the 
morning ; then it is clear daylight : then sunrise : then 
brighter and brighter day ; at last brightest noonday. 
Thus this better covenant was but obscurely and imperfectly 
discovered after the fall, in the promise of Christ. Gen. iii. 
This was the covenant's daybreak, or first dawning of it to 
mankind. Then somewhat more clearly to Xoah, where it 
is first styled a covenant. This was the covenant's daylight. 
More clearly and fully after this to Abraham, with the pro- 
mise, amono- other things, that in his seed all the nations of 
the earth should be blessed. This was the covenant's bright 
sunrise : then it began to shine out with bright and beau- 
teous ravs of grace. More fully and perfectly after this at 
Mount Sinai, the object of which was principally to direct 
them to Christ and his righteousness, (by the types and 
ceremonies,) as the only remedy against sin and misery. 
More clearly and fully after this to king David, with whom 



COVENANT. 



133 



God made an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and 
sure. More clearly and fully yet after this to the Jews in 
the Babylonish captivity — to set up his tabernacle and sanc- 
tuary in the midst of them for evermore, He being their God, 
and they his people. These gradual discoveries of God's 
covenant at Mount Sinai, to David, and to the captive Jews, 
were as the brighter and brighter day. Finally, after all 
these, the new covenant breaks forth most clearly and com- 
pletely, being founded upon Christ already exhibited, and 
incarnate, and upon far better promises in Christ, &c. And 
this was the covenant's noontide, brightest or perfect day. 

Because of the incapacity and weakness of the church in 
her primordial state, we find God making known his cove- 
nant to them, according to what they were able to receive. 
At first, in their infancy, he disclosed but the A B C of the 
covenant till the time of Abraham : then he leaves them to 
spell it from Abraham till Moses: afterwards he taught 
them to read it more perfectly from Moses till Christ : and 
lastly, he makes them fully to understand it since the incar- 
nation of Christ. Thus, as the church grew riper, the cove- 
nant of faith shined forth clearer and clearer. And this, in 
order that the graces of the church, her faith, her hope, and 
patience, might be gradually exercised and improved more 
and more in waiting, and that, by these gradual discoveries 
of the covenant, God might gradually advance the excel- 
lency of his glory to the highest, every additional discovery 
of his covenant proportionally augmenting the glory of his 
free grace, love, mercy, and goodness, to his elect. 



(Contentment 

One observes concerning manna, when the people were 
contented with the allowance that God gave them, then it 
was very good ; but when they would not be content with 
God's allowance, but would be gathering more, then, says 
the text, there were worms in it ; so, when we are content 



134 



CONTENTMENT. 



with our conditions, and that which God disposeth of us to 
be in, there is a blessing in it ; but if we must be reaching 
out for more than God hath allotted, or to keep it longer 
than God would have us to keep it, then there will be worms 
in it ; a canker to eat it, a moth to fret it, nothing at all that 
is good. — Spencer. 

Marcus Curio, when he had bribes sent unto him to tempt 
him to be unfaithful to his country, he was sitting at dinner 
with a dish of turnips, and they came and promised him re- 
wards : " Well," saith he, " the man that can be contented with 
such fare as I have, will not be tempted with your rewards. 
I thank God I am contented with this fare ; and as for 
rewards, let them be offered to those who cannot be content 
to dine with a dish of turnips as I do." The truth of this is 
apparently seen ; the reason why many men do betray their 
trust, and by indirect means strive to be rich, is, because they 
cannot be contented to be in a low condition ; whereas the 
man that is contented with a hard bed and a bare board, is 
shot free for thousands of temptations that prevail against 
others, even to the damning of their souls. — Ibid. 

By the art of navigation, with great pains and industry, 
men can fetch in the silks of Persia, the spices of Egypt, the 
gold of Ophir, the treasures of the East and West Indies. 0 
but by the art of contentment, a man may stay at home, and 
fetch in the comfort of any condition whatsoever ; that is, he 
may have that comfort by contentment, that he would have 
if he had the very things themselves.— Ibid. 

When iEsop, with the rest of his fellow slaves, were put to 
carry burthens to a city, iEsop chose to carry the victuals ; 
every one laughed at this, that he, being the weakest, had 
elected the heaviest burthen ; away they went together, and 
after some miles they went to breakfast, — his burthen was the 
lighter for that ; then to dinner, — it was lighter still ; then 
to supper, — now it was easy ; the next day, they had eaten 
up all his burthen, and he went empty to the city, whither 
they, being laden, could not reach. Thus it is in the world ; 
the covetous man chooseth gold for his burden ; the proud fine 
clothes, and a fine equipage ; the ambitious, mountains of 
honour ; every worldling their several luggage ; but a child 



CHARITY. 



135 



of God contents himself " with food and raiment," and God's 
good pleasure ; and though such a lot may seem a heavy 
burden, yet he who has no other may go with it the lighter 
to heaven. — Ibid. 

The wheels of a chariot move, but the axletree moves not ; 
the sails of a mill move with the wind, but the mill itself 
stands still ; the earth is carried round its orbit in the hea- 
vens, but its centre moves not ; — all emblems of contentment. 
And thus it is that a Christian is like Noah in the ark, which 
though tossed with the waters, he could sit and sing in it ; 
and a soul that is gotten into the ark of contentment, sings 
and sails above all the waters of trouble ; when it meets with 
motion and change in the creatures round about on every 
side, it stirs not, nor is moved out of its place ; when the 
outward estate moves with the wind of providence, yet the 
heart is settled through holy contentment ; and when others 
shake and tremble through disquiet, the contented spirit can 
say with David, " O God, my heart is fixed, my heart is fixed." 
Psalm lvii. 7. — Ibid. 



Amongst other things in the learning of the Egyptians, 
there is to be seen the picture and figure of charity, 
hieroglyphically set out like a child that is naked, with a 
heart in his hand, giving honey to a bee that wanteth wings. 
1 . As a child humble and meek as Moses, not churlish and 
dogged like Nabal. 2. Naked, because the charitable 
man must not give his alms for ostentation to be seen of 
men. . 3. With a heart in his hand, because the heart and 
hand of a charitable man must go together, — he must be a 
cheerful giver. 4. Giving honey unto a bee, not to a 
drone, — relieving poor men that will labour, not lazy beggars 
that will take no pains. And lastly, to a bee without wings, 
— to such as would gather honey if they were able, would 



136 



CHARITY. 



work if they could ; but the want of wings shows lack of 
strength, health, and other the like abilities make then] un- 
able to help themselves ; thus to do is not charity mistaken, 
misapplied, ill bestowed, but seasonable, suitable, and well 
regulated. — Ibid. 

It is written of Plato, that when he did give to a poor 
profligate wretch, his friends very much admired that Plato, 
the great divine philosopher, would take pity on such a 
wretched miscreant ; but he, like himself, in such misty days 
as those were, made answer, " I show mercy to the man, not 
as he is wicked, but because he is a man of my own nature," 
His answer was good and warrantable ; for if we consider our 
first parents, we shall find ourselves bound by the same 
obligation to do good unto all men ; " There is neither Jew 
nor Greek, bond nor free, neither male nor female, in Christ 
Jesus." 

When Alexander set forward upon his great exploits, 
before he went from Macedonia he divided amongst his 
captains and friends all that he had ; for which when one of 
his friends reproved him, saying that he was prodigal be- 
cause he had retained nothing for himself, the answer which 
Alexander gave was this, that he had reserved much unto 
himself, namely, the hope of the monarchy of the world, 
which by the valour and help of these captains and nobles 
he hoped to obtain. And thus surely, he that givethto the 
poor may seem to be prodigal, yet in respect of the hope 
that he hath of profit, he is frugally wise ; neither is this 
hope such as Alexander's was, which depended on the uncer- 
tainty of war, but such as is grounded upon the certainty 
of God's word. Prov. xix. 17. — Spencer. 

Alms is compared to seed, 1 Cor. i. 9, and seed uses not to 
be carelessly scattered, but to be sown with discretion, 
according to ability. [See Acts xi. 29.] Though we give 
away but water, we need not give away fountain and all. 

Charity to the body, and not to the soul — such benevolence 
overlooking its immortality, is infinitely more unreasonable 
than the kindness which with regard to the body would 
busy itself with all promptitude and assiduity of concern in 



CONSCIENCE. 



137 



carefully binding up a wounded finger, while it left a violent 
and deadly disorder to prey upon the vitals with unheeded, 
unmitigated, and fatal fury. 

When stewards receive the wages of the whole family, it 
is not to keep them, but to distribute them. Job xxxi. 17. 

It has been frequently wished by Christians, that there 
were some rule laid down in the Bible, fixing the proportion 
of their property which they ought to contribute to religious 
uses. This is as if a child should go to his father and say, 
" Father, how many times in the day must I come to you 
with some testimonial of my love 1 how often will it be 
necessary to show my affection for you ?" The father would 
of course reply, " Just as often as your feelings prompt you, 
my child, and no oftener." Just so Christ says to his people, 
" Look at me, and see what I have done and suffered for 
you, and then give me just what you think I deserve. I do 
not wish anything forced." 



Conscience. 

Conscience does the work of a monitor, and a judge. In 
some cases, conscience is like an eloquent and fair spoken 
judge, who declaims not against the criminal, but condemns 
him justly. In others the judge is more angry, and affrights 
the prisoner more ; but the event is the same. For in those 
sins where the conscience affrights, as in those which it 
affrights not, supposing the sins equal, but of different 
natures, there is no other difference, but the conscience is a 
clock which in one man strikes aloud and gives warning, 
and in another the hand points silently to the figure, but 
strikes not ; but by this he may as surely see what the other 
hears, — that his hours pass away, and death hastens, and 
after death comes judgment. 

If we ward off, or attend to, the first incursion of disease, 
the body will be preserved. And the believer that is led 
simply, and filially to walk with God in a state of perpetual 



138 



CONSCIENCE. 



unfolding of the heart to God, taking little sins before him, 
opening the heart when there has been a wound received, 
by that process finds his conscience become exceedingly 
tender. 

Reason can toil through many steps, and lie content with 
small acquirements ; but let the conscience be once roused, 
let her come steadily to the business of salvation — to what is 
right, and what is wrong — to holy and unholy — she is quick 
as the eagle's wing, and rapid as the lightning of God in 
the darkness of the storm. In a moment she pierces through 
a thousand intricacies, shivers into atoms the dull heartless 
sophistry which is opposed to her course, and breaking into 
the chambers of the soul, scares guilt with the brightness of 
truth ! 

Many are the means adopted to quiet a conscience, which 
will one day speak in thunders to the soul. Men will deny 
themselves the use of worldly amusements, give something 
in charities, and abound in the exercise of religious ordi- 
nances, yet with hearts so pre-ocupied by worldly interests 
and affections, that the most solemn declarations that we 
must " be born again of the Spirit," and made "new crea- 
tures," can make no impression. It is true they thus escape 
all painful convictions of sin, all the horrors of a disturbed 
conscience, all distressing fears about the future ; but this 
apathy of soul is but as the awful calm of nature which 
ushers in the bursting of the earthquake or volcano ; or it 
may be likened to the dead repose of nature which precedes 
the approaching storm on some Alpine summit : the winds 
are hushed, not a leaf is seen to move, and the solitary 
bird seeks his sheltered nook — an awful stillness prevails, 
but it is the stillness of the gathering tempest, which is 
about to sweep in desolation all around it, and from which 
the thunders of an angry heaven are prepared to burst. 
Such is that deathlike stupor of the conscience which is only 
to issue in desolation, and the blackness of darkness for 
ever. 

As long as Adam maintained a conscience pure towards 
God, he was happy : but having once taken the forbidden 
fruit, he tarried a while there, but took no contentment there- 



CONSCIENCE. 



139 



in ; the sun did shine as bright, the rivers ran as clear as 
ever they did, birds sang as sweetly, beasts played as plea- 
santly, flowers smelt as fragrant, herbs grew as fresh, fruits 
flourished as fair ; no punctilio of pleasure was either altered 
or abated ; the objects were the same, but Adam's eyes were 
otherwise; his nakedness stood in his light, a thorn of guilti- 
ness grew in his heart, before any thistles sprang out of 
the ground, which made him not to seek for the fairest fruits 
to fill his hunger, but the biggest leaves to cover his naked- 
ness. Such is the torture of a wounded conscience, that it 
is able to unparadise paradise, and the burthen thereof so 
insupportable, that it is able to quell the courage and crush 
the shoulders of the hugest Hercules, of the mightiest man 
upon the face of the earth: who can bear it? Prov. xviii. 
14. — Spencer. 

It is recorded of that reverend martyr Bishop Latimer, 
that he took special care in the placing of his words before 
Bonner, because he heard the spies walking in the chimney 
behind the cloth, setting down what he said. So ought we 
circumspectly to look to all our sayings and doings, for 
conscience is a scribe or register, sitting in the closet of our 
hearts with pen in hand, who makes a diurnal of all our 
ways, sets down the time when, the place where, the man- 
ner how, things were performed, and that so clear and evi- 
dent, that go where we will, do what we can, the characters 
of them shall never be cancelled or razed out, till God 
appears in judgment. — Ibid. 

It is a witty parable, which one of the fathers hath of a 
man that had three friends, two whereof he loved entirely, 
the third in an inferior degree. This man, being called in 
question for his life, sought help of his friends ; the first 
would bear him company some part of the way ; the second 
would lend him some money for his journey, and that was all 
they could or would do for him; but the third, whom he 
least respected, and from whom he least expected, would go 
all the way and abide all the while with him ; yea, he would 
appear with him and plead for him. This man is every one 
of us, and our three friends are the flesh, and the world, 
and our own conscience. Now, when death shall summon 



140 



CORRUPTIONS. 



us to judgment, what can our friends after the flesh do for 
us ? they will bring us some part of the way to the grave, 
and farther they cannot ; and of all the worldly goods which 
we possess, what shall we have ? What will they afford us ? 
only a shroud and a coffin, or a tomb, at the most. But a 
good conscience that will live and die with us, or rather 
live when we are dead, and when we rise again, it will 
appear with us at God's tribunal ; and when neither friends 
nor a full purse can do any good, then a good conscience 
will stick close by us. — Ibid. 



(Corruptions. 

Some of the old " chambers of imagery," the " nests of 
unclean birds," are suffered to remain to the last ; but a fair 
portion seems swept and garnished for the master's use : the 
soul renewed in this temple, the Spirit of God is said to dwell 
in it when he manifests himself to his people. Here we 
will suppose all the virtues and graces of the Spirit to grow ; 
and in proportion as they thrive and spread their lovely 
branches abroad, we may imagine the dark and gloomy 
chambers to be screened from observation. But sudden hur- 
ricanes overtake them — or a long season of drought — or 
wintry days, and the leaves fall off, and the hidden recesses 
again become visible. They had never been removed, but 
concealed for a time ; so that when the covering was taken 
away, there they were in their former deformity! And thus 
it is with man. 

We naturally linger after what we fancy is liberty, and are 
hardly brought under the yoke of duty ; and the more spi- 
ritual the duty is, the more backward are we. Corruption 
gains ground for the most part by neglect. It is as in row- 
ing against the tide, — one stroke neglected will not be gain- 
ed in three, and therefore it is good to keep our hearts close 
to duty. 

When Christ comes, there will be opposition from a cor- 



CORRUPTIONS. 141 

• v 

rupt nature. When he was born, all Jerusalem was troubled ; 
so when he is born in any soul, the soul is in an uproar, be- 
cause the heart is unwilling to receive him, and submit to 
him. 

Although a good man may be incident to a passion, a 
well-grown Christian hath seldom such sufferings. To suffer 
such things sometimes may stand with the being of virtue, 
but not with its security. A garrison which is shut up within 
its walls, for fear of the enemy who is without, may not be 
wholly conquered ; but is much in the condition of pri- 
soners, and has lost its liberty while its enemies have pos- 
session of the country. So if passions rage up and down, 
and transport us frequently and violently, we may keep in 
our forts and in our dwellings ; but virtues are restrained, 
and apt to be starved, and will not hold out long. 

When the sun shines with some power, and the year gets 
up, we observe, though we may have frost and snow, yet 
they do not lie long, but are soon dissolved by the sun. O ! 
this is a sweet sign that the love of Christ shines with a 
force upon the soul, that no corruptions can lie long in the 
bosom, but they melt into sorrow, and bitter complaints. 
That is the decaying soul where sin lies frozen and bound, 
till little sense of or sorrow for it appears. 

Such is the pertinacity and close adhesion of our corrup- 
tions, that they cleave as fast to us as the very powers and 
faculties of our souls — as heat unto the fire, as light unto the 
sun. Yet sure we are that He who forbade the fire to burn, 
and put blackness upon the face of the sun at midday, is 
able also to remove our corruptions as far from us as he has 
removed them from his own sight. 

In regard to our corruptions, we may learn something from 
the difference of glasses. You behold yourselves in your com- 
mon looking-glasses, and see yourselves so fine that you admire 
your persons and dress. But when you view yourself in a 
microscope, how much may you behold in that fine skin to 
be ashamed of ; what disfigurement to the eye ! and instead 
of smoothness, irregularity, uncomeliness, and even impu- 
rity. So, if you will look upon yourself through the glass 
of faith, that glass would show you much of the corruption 



142 CORRUPTIONS. 

of your sinful nature still cleaving to you; your tempers 
crooked, your graces misshapen and deformed, and so much 
corruption cleaving to every action of your lives that would 
make you sin-sick that you have known God so long, and 
are like him so little. 

I have read of an English painter, who, after only meet- 
ing any stranger in the streets, could go home and paint 
that person's picture to the life. Let us suppose that one 
whose likeness is taken in this manner should happen to see, 
unexpectedly, his own picture. It would startle him. The 
exact similitude of air, shape, features, and complexion, 
would convince him that the representation was designed for 
himself, though his own name be not affixed to it, and he is con- 
scious that he never sat for the piece. In the scriptures of truth 
we have a striking delineation of human depravity through 
original sin. Though we have not sat to the inspired writers, 
the likeness suits us all. When the Spirit of God holds up 
the mirror, and shows us to ourselves, we see, we feel, we 
deplore, our apostasy from, and our inability to recover the 
image of his rectitude. Experience proves the horrid like- 
ness true ; and we need no arguments to convince us, that in, 
and of ourselves we are spiritually " wretched, and misera- 
ble, and poor, and blind, and naked." 

Our old corrupt nature is eventually destined to fall before 
the power of grace. Its case is that of an ancient castle 
that had been for days assaulted by the battering-ram. It 
was long before the stroke of that engine made any sensible 
impression, but the continual repetition at length communi- 
cated a slight tremor to the wall ; the next, and the next, and 
the next blow increased it. Another shock put the whole 
mass in motion, from the top to the foundation ; it bends 
forward, and is every moment driven farther from the per- 
pendicular, till at last the decisive blow is given, and down 
it comes. And so must fall the strong tower of corruption. 
At first it seems to defy the efforts of grace ; but by little 
and little its wall gives way, for " the weapons" in the divine 
warfare are mighty through God for the pulling down of 
these strongholds ;" till at last it shall be shaken to its deep 



CORRUPTIONS. 



143 



foundations, and fall a glorious ruin for the saint to rejoice 
over. " We shall be satisfied with his likeness." 

" The heart doth go after covetousnses," when a man 
makes all the motions of his soul wait upon his lusts, and 
drudgeth for them, and bringeth his heart to the edge of the 
creature. For the world doth not wound the heart, but the 
heart wouncleth itself upon the world. As it is not the rock 
alone that dasheth the ship, without its own motion, being 
first tossed by the wind and waves upon the rock ; so it is a 
man's own lust which vexeth his spirit, and not the things 
alone which he possesseth. 

Every one knows that the seeds of plants and trees must 
be cast into the earth and become decomposed before vege- 
tation will take place. This is one of nature's wonders, or 
rather of nature's God. Let us imagine, if we can, a man 
who had never seen this order exemplified in this particular 
instance, and he would be just as ready to disbelieve that 
plants and trees could spring from seed cast into the earth, 
as we are to calculate upon the certainty of the fact. What 
resemblance is there indeed between the future plant, and 
the seed from which it springs ? How little could mere rea- 
son, without experience, venture to predict the result that 
follows from a few handfuls of grain scattered over the soil ! 
So, when overwhelmed with our corruptions, and we can 
scarce discover the existence of any graces, and then look at 
the height and stature they have attained to in others, we 
are ready to doubt whether such a simple principle as faith, 
and that so weak, can ever spring up in the abundance of 
christian fruitfulness we shall one day attain to. But what 
if this faith be a seminal principle, as the seed which contains 
the mighty oak ? Let us take courage in the assurance of its 
progressive growth, and destined increase. 

We will, to convince those who are Christians only in title 
and profession, and pretend invincible impediments against per- 
forming their duty, propound the moral excellencies that 
shined in some heathens in the government of the passions 
and affections. Socrates, who had a fiery nature, that inclined 
him to sudden anger, yet attained to such a constant equal 
temper, that when, provoked by injuries, his countenance 



144 



CORRUPTIONS. 



was more placid and serene, his voice more temperate, his 
words more kind and obliging, than before. Plato, surprised 
with passion for a great fault of his servant, took a staff to 
beat him, and having lifted up his hand for a stroke, stop- 
ped suddenly ; and a friend coming in, wondering to see him 
in that posture, said, / chastise an angry man, reflecting 
with shame upon himself : thus he disarmed his passion. 
When Alexander had conquered Darius and taken his queen, 
a woman of exquisite beauty, he would not have her brought 
into his presence, that his virtue might not be violated by 
the sight of her. Scipio, having taken a town in Spain, 
and among them a noble virgin very beautiful, resigned her 
untouched, with her ransom of great value, to the prince to 
whom she was contracted. And Phocion, who had deserved 
so highly of the Athenians, was condemned unjustly to die ; 
his son attending him to receive his last commands immedi- 
ately before his death, he charged him never to revenge it on 
the Athenians. How will some of the heathens rise up in 
the great day, and condemn Christians ! 

As corruption and infection could not by the ambient air enter 
into our bodies, if our bodies did not consist of such a nature 
as hath in itself the causes of corruption, no more could sin, 
which is a general rot and corruption of the soul, enter into 
us through the allurements or provocation of outward things, 
if our souls had not first of themselves received that inward 
hurt, by which their desire is made subject to sin, as the 
woman's desire was made subject to her husband, and (as 
philosophers say) the matter to the form. The causes of sin 
are to be ascribed to our own concupiscence ; the root is 
from our own hearts. It is confessed that Satan may instil 
his poison and kindle a fire of evil desires in us, yet it is our 
own flesh that is the first mover, and our own will which sets 
the faculties of the soul in combustion. 

Carlista the harlot thus bragged against Socrates. " All 
thy philosophy cannot alienate one of my lovers from me ; 
but my beauty can fetch many of thy scholars from thee." He 
made her this answer : " No wonder, for thou temptest man to 
th pleasing path of perdition ; but I persuade them to the 
troublesome way of virtue." And it is observed that philoso- 



CORRUPTIONS. 145 

pliers of divers sects turned to the Epicures, but never did 
any Epicure accept of any other sect of philosophy. Thus 
it is that men are easily drawn by their own natural corrup- 
tion. Men are naturally disposed to be evil, to be holy and 
good is the difficulty ; we are all of us born sinners, there is 
much ado to make us saints. For corrupt nature to adhere 
unto a doctrine that holdeth out carnal liberty, there is no 
more wonder in it, than for stones to fall downwards, or for 
sparks to fly upwards ; but to mortify our earthly members, to 
deny ourselves, to forsake this present world, and cleave 
unto God, this goes against the hair ; fain would we be 
saints, but we are loth to be holy. — Spencer. 

Indwelling sin and unholy tempers do most certainly 
receive their death's wound in regeneration ; but they do not 
quite expire, until the renewed soul is taken up from earth 
to heaven. In the mean time, these hated remains of depra- 
vity will, too often, like prisoners in a dungeon, crawl to - 
ward the window (though in chains), and show themselves 
through the grate. I do not know, whether the strivings of 
inherent corruption for mastery be not frequently more vio- 
lent in a regenerate person, than even in one who is dead in 
trespasses ; as wild beasts are sometimes the more rampant 
and furious for being wounded. 

A person of the amplest fortune cannot help the harbour- 
ing of snakes, toads, and other venomous reptiles on his 
lands ; but they will breed, and nestle, and crawl about his 
estate, whether he will or no. All he can do is, to pursue 
and kill them whenever they make their appearance ; yet, 
let him be ever so vigilant and diligent, there will always be 
a succession of those creatures to exercise his patience, and 
engage his industry. So it is with the true believer in re- 
spect of indwelling sin. 

Being employed in the garden, I was affected to see how 
much the weeds came on faster than the herbs and plants. Just 
so do corruptions thrive and grow in my soul. Yet this com- 
forts me — the herbs, most of them, are better rooted than 
the weeds ; they are not so easily pulled up. The good part 
shall not be taken away. If I am growing on the root Christ, 
no man shall ever be able to pull me thence — " kept by the 

L 



146 



DEATH, SPIRITUAL. 



power of God through faith "unto salvation." — The Port- 
folio. 

Morality, without the purifying influence of the gospel, is 
inadequate to change the heart from its natural bias to evil. 
It may indeed restrain us from the commission of outwardly 
notorious crimes, while the disposition to sin continues un- 
changed. Such effects are but the receding waves repulsed, 
and broken for a moment on the shore, while the great tide 
is rolling on and gaining ground with every breaker. 



Beaft, Spiritual 

Ephes. v. 14. By sleep St. Paul means a state of insensibility 
to things as they really are in God's sight. When we are 
asleep, we are as absent from this world's action as if we had no 
longer any concern in it. It goes on without us ; or if our rest 
be broken, and we have some slight notion of people and occur- 
rences about us, if we hear a voice or a sentence, and see a 
face, yet we are unable to catch these outward objects justly 
and truly, we make them part of our dreams, and pervert 
them till they have scarcely a resemblance to what they 
really are : and such is the state of man as regards religious 
truths. Many live altogether as though the day shone not 
upon them but the shadows still endured, and for the greater 
part are but faintly sensible and alive to spiritual truths. 
They see and hear as people in a dream ; they mix up the 
holy word of God with their idle imaginings : if startled for 
a moment, yet they still relapse into slumber, they refuse to 
be awakened, and think their happiness consists in their con- 
tinuing as they are. Alas ! they see not the vision of truth 
which they would see were their eyes open , but see a vague, 
extravagant, defective picture of it, as a man sees when he 
is asleep. 

The spiritual sleep is understood by comparison with the 
natural ; in the natural, instruments of sense and motion are 
bound up ; the apprehensive faculties that discover dangers, 



DANGER. 



147 



and the active powers that resist or avoid them, are sus- 
pended from their exercise. All the powers and energies 
which belong to the living man are locked up, and both body 
and mind are as inert and passive as if there were no life. 
So in the spiritual sleep the soul lies in a state of total inac- 
tion. Its faculties and apprehensions are dead to spiritual 
things ; it neither sees, hears, nor understands God's truth • 
and its senses lie covered with gross darkness. It sleeps in 
ignorance of dangers that threaten it, and unpreparedness 
to resist them. And thus it lies like a dead, helpless thing, 
till Christ brings light, and calls upon this sleeper to arise 
from the dead. 

When at sea, it is the practice to attach heavy weights to a 
corpse, and it is then lowered into the deep waters. But 
the corpse, though carried downwards into the deep, un- 
fathomable gulf, is utterly unconscious of its sinking state, 
though it continues to descend till it meets the bottom. So 
the soul which is spiritually dead is continually thrust down 
and overwhelmed with the burden of its sins. Unconscious 
of its destination, it is irresistibly carried onwards. Its path 
is the downward path of destruction. It has a weight and a 
burden which it can no more cast off, than the corpse can disen- 
gage itself from its iron weights. Unconscious of ruin, it 
continues to fall until it is swallowed up in the depths of per- 
dition. Nothing but the mighty hand of God can arrest it 
while plunging downwards in the gulfs of ruin. 



Banger. 

A prudent man foreseeth the evil, &c. — Prov. xxii. 3. It 
is the highest folly not to look out after dangers. He that 
walks in the midst of snares and serpents, and yet goes on 
confidently, and without consideration of his danger, as if 
his path were all smooth or safe, will one time or other be 
entangled or bitten. So men at sea that are in the midst of 
rocks or shelves, and consider it not, will hardly avoid a 
shipwreck. Livy tells us that Philopoemen, a wary Gre- 
cian commander, wherever he went, though alone, was still 

l 2 



148 



DANGER. 



considering all the places that he passed by, how an enemy 
might possess them, and lay ambushes in them, and to his 
disadvantage, if he should command an army in those parts. 
Hereby he became the most expert and wary captain of his 
age. So should a Christian do. 

If a traveller, journeying on the high road, comes at last 
to a place where there are many cross roads, and no direct- 
ing post, it is ten to one that he takes the wrong road, and 
so wanders away from the place he is seeking ; neither is 
there any chance of his recovering his error, and finding 
the place of his destination without a guide. So the 
broad and beaten high way of this life's journey is inter- 
sected with innumerable paths of error, while there is but 
one straight and narrow way leading to the God and heaven 
which man desires ; and without the guide, the Holy Spirit, 
he will never strike into that path — " Christ the way." And 
as in the case of the traveller, if one should join company 
with him on the way, and use every artifice to lead him 
astray, his difficulties would be vastly greater ; how much 
more so is this the case of the poor sinner who is blinded by 
Satan, who lietli in wait to deceive him every step of his 
way ! 

The prayer of Agur, Give me neither poverty nor riches, Sfc., 
is founded in much reason. There is great hazard both in 
prosperity and adversity, but more in fulness than in want. 
He that rows in a shallop near the shore needs not the skill 
and courage of a pilot that directs a ship through tempestu- 
ous seas, and who with his ill-governed ship must sink to the 
bottom. But in calamities, vexation and immoderate sor- 
row hinder the free exercise of reason and religion, and 
often increase men's sins ; as when physic does not work well 
it increases the disease, and hastens its effects. If the sun 
should make a search, it would discover but few among the 
numberless Christians that enjoy prosperity without inso- 
lence, or suffer adversity without impatience, or such dejec- 
tion as exceeds the rule of the passions. To endure the burn- 
ing Line or frozen Pole without distempering the blood and 
humours, and injury to the constitution, proceeds from a 
sound and firm constitution. To receive no hurtful impres- 



DANGER. 



149 



sions by great changes of condition, discovers a habit of ex- 
cellent grace and virtue in the soul. 

The gospel is a proclamation of free mercy to guilty 
creatures — an act of grace to rebels. Now, though a rebel 
should throw away his pistols, and determine to go into the 
woods, and make his mind better before he goes to court 
and pleads the act ; he may indeed not be found in arms, 
yet being taken in his reforming scheme he will be hanged. 
So will it be with those who delay coming to Christ. Hell 
is paved with good intentions. 

It is recorded of Archias, a chief magistrate in one of the 
Grecian states, that he was unpopular in his government, 
and had excited the hatred of many of his people, who 
conspired against his life. The day arrived when the fatal 
plot was to be executed. Archias was more than half dis- 
solved in wine and pleasure, when a courier from Athens 
arrived in great haste, with a packet which contained (as 
afterwards appeared) a circumstantial account of the whole 
conspiracy. The messenger being admitted into the presence 
of the prince, said, " My lord, the person who writes to you 
these letters, conjures you to read them immediately ; they 
contain serious affairs." Archias replied, laughing, " Serious 
affairs to-morrow :" and so continued his revel. On the 
same night, in the midst of that noisy mirth, the end of 
which is heaviness, the assailants rushed into the palace, 
and murdered Archias with his associates ; leaving to the 
world a striking example of the evil of procrastination. 

The point of obedience God presseth to now. Now, while 
it is called to-day, harden not your hearts. Pompilius, the 
Roman ambassador, when he made delays and excuses, the 
emperor drew a circle on the ground, saying, " intra hunc — 
answer me before thou stirrest from this place." So God 
standeth upon his authority, and will have a present answer ; 
if he say to-day, 'tis flat disobedience for you to say to- 
morrow. You are charged in his name, as you will answer 
the contrary, you say, No, I will please the flesh a little 
longer ; it may be just with God, if you refuse him, never to 
call you more. 

If we had a lease of our lives, yet what hope of grace 
when we have resisted the Spirit of God all our lives I 



150 



DEATH . 



Every day will prove worse and worse. A man may easily 
pass over the head of a brook, but when he goeth down 
thinking to find it narrower, 'tis so broad that he cannot 
pass at ail. Every delay brings on hardness of heart on 
our part, and a new desertion on God's part. It will be 
hard to untwist the former web which thou hast been so 
long weaving. That soul must needs be in perplexity at 
the hour of death, that seeth the day spent, and the business 
appointed him not yet begun, and disease disabling him from 
entering on his journey. It is as if a traveller seeth the sun 
setting as he is entering upon his journey ; the evening of 
the day, and the morning of the task, do not well agree 
together. 



Your bereaved friend is in the upper part of the presence 
chamber ; you are yet for a season in the lower. But the 
distance is imaginary. You are both still gazing at one and 
the same object ; you by faith, he in open vision. Christ is 
the uniting point. 

God, to prevent all escape, hath sown the seeds of death 
in our very nature, so that we can as soon run from ourselves 
as from death. We need no feller to come with the hand of 
violence to hew us down ; there is in the tree a worm which 
grows out of its own substance, that will destroy it ; so in 
us there are those infirmities of nature, that will bring us 
down to the ground. Our death was bred when our life 
was first conceived ; and as a breeding woman cannot hinder 
the hour of her travail that follows in nature upon the 
other, so neither can man hinder the hour of death, with 
which his life is big. 

Take any small quantity of matter, a grain of sand for 
instance, and cut it into two parts ; these two parts might 
again be divided, had we instruments sufficiently fine for the 
purpose ; and if by means of pounding, grinding, and other 
similar methods, we carry this division to the greatest pos- 



DEATH. 



151 



sible extent, and reduce the body to the finest imaginable 
particles, yet not one of the particles will be destroyed, and 
the body will continue to exist, though in this altered state. 
And so will it be with the particles of the human body 
which are indestructible, when death shall take it to 
pieces. 

A common solicitude, and a common hope, bind the 
hearts of believers together. Death divides them, but it is 
only as the successive ranks of a host are divided when 
summoned in turn to advance and pass singly a perilous 
defile. Beyond that strait of momentary gloom and danger 
all again are to be marshalled, and every one to join his 
commander. 

" We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent 
from the body, and to be present with the Lord." To resig- 
nation St. Paul adds complacency. We are better pleased 
to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord. A 
valiant man will venture on wounds and death, but is not 
pleased with them, but in reference to so excellent an object 
and occasion. The word which we read, " willing," signifies, 
to approve or like well, not as merely judicious, but coni- 
placential approbation. What ! to have all my good bound 
in what I cannot keep ! and to be in continual dread of 
what I cannot avoid ! What can be more disconsolate ? 
How grievous will it be to be torn out of the body ! not to 
resign the soul, but have it drawn forth like a rusty sword 
out of the sheath ; a thing which our utmost unwillingness 
will make the more painful, but cannot defer. How doth 
that part of the creation that is inferior to you, of fruits 
springing up out of the earth, and growing to ripeness and 
maturity, with husks, shells, or other integuments, which then 
fall off, such as never ripen, they and their enfoldings 
together, teach you ! Esteem it your perfection, when your 
shell will fall off easily ; and cleave not so close as to put 
you to pain when it is to be severed from you. — The 
Portfolio. 

If a man were tied fast to a stake, at whom a most cunning 
archer did shoot, and, wounding many about him, some 



152 



DEATH. 



above, and some below, some beyond, and some short, some 
on this hand, and some on that ; and the poor wretch him- 
self so fast bound to the stake, that it were not any way 
possible for him to escape ; would it not be deemed madness 
in him, if, in the mean time, forgetting his misery and 
danger, he should carelessly fall to bib and quaff, to laugh 
and be merry, as if he could not be touched at all ? Who 
would not judge such a man beside himself, that should not 
provide for his end ? Such bedlamites are most amongst us, 
who knowing and understanding that the most expert 
archer that ever was, even God himself, hath whet his sword 
and bent his bow, and made it ready, and hath also prepared 
for him the instruments of death, and ordained his arrows, 
Ps. vii. 12, 13, yea, that he hath already shot forth his 
darts and arrows of death, and hath hit those that are above 
us, superiors and elders ; such as be right against us, com- 
panions and equals ; such as be ever near us, kindred and 
allies ; on the right hand our friends ; on the left our 
enemies ; yet we think to be free, sit still as men and women 
unconcerned, not so much as once thinking that our turn 
may be next.— Spekcer. 

As the setting of the sun appears of greater magnitude, 
and his beams of richer gold, than when he is in the meri- 
dian ; so a dying believer is, usually, richer in experience, 
stronger in grace, and brighter in his evidences for heaven, 
than a living one. 

When a person is going into a foreign land, where he 
never was before, it is comfortable for him to consider, 
" Though I am embarking for an unknown country, yet it is 
a place where I have many friends, who are already settled 
there : so that I shall be, in fact, at home the instant I get 
thither." How sweet for a dying believer to reflect, that, 
though he is yet a stranger in the world of spirits, still the 
world of spirits are no strangers to him. God, his Father, 
is there ; Christ, his Saviour, is there ; angels, his elect 
brethren, are there ; saints, who got home before him, are 
there : and more will follow him every day. He has the 
blood and righteousness of Christ for his letters of recom- 



DEATH. 



153 



mendation, and the Holy Spirit for his introducer. He 
also goes upon express invitation from the King* of the 
country. 

If I wear a rose in my bosom, it scents my whole person. 
Has the Saviour a place in my breast, he communicates the 
fragrance of his merits to my soul, and his Spirit fills the 
atmosphere through which I move, as it were with the 
breath of heaven. Even in death the rose is sweet, passing 
sweet, and sweetens every place where it lies. Thus the 
rose of Sharon has given the fragrance of life to the very 
chambers of death and the grave, and to that wardrobe of 
the saints where their material garments are to be laid up 
till the morning of the resurrection, then to be brought forth 
beautiful and fresh, fit for the court of heaven. — East. 

Meditations of death are usually very unprofitable. It is 
with most men as it is with a flock of sheep, which graze 
till the shepherd rushes in amongst them, and lays hold of 
one of them for the slaughter, and this presently frightens 
them, making them leave their food and run scattering 
about the fields ; but no sooner is the terror over, but they 
flock together again, and feed as securely without thought of 
death or danger as before, until the slaughterer again selects 
his prey. So truly is it with most men, when death sud- 
denly lays his hand upon some friend or relative, and arrests 
him amidst the crowd of thoughtless mortals. Some extra- 
ordinary circumstance in the death of others will turn their 
attention from their usual occupations, and call up frightful 
images of the grave and eternity. But these thoughts soon 
wear off, and they return to the same round of worldly 
vanity and wretched security as before, until the thunders 
of the Almighty are again heard, and Death, this appalling- 
monster, is again seen in pursuit, and hurrying his victim to 
the slaughter, when the same scene is acted over again — 
they tremble — the dead is interred, and the grave filled up, 
and the irrevocable sentence is forgotten — " 'Tis appointed 
unto all men once to die," &c, until the pit of destruction 
again yawns, and swallows them up. 

If you look upon a tablet, where you behold a rich and 
powerful man, and upon a poor contemptible beggar, you 



154 



DEATH. 



neither envy one, nor despise the other, because you know 
them to be shadows and no truths : the same judgment we 
ought to make of things themselves ; for all are but shadows, 
and little more than nothing : and as in a comedy or farce, 
it imports little who plays Alexander, and who the beggar, 
since all are equal when the play is done ; — so are we after 
death. — Spencer. 

An eminent author suggests a motive which we may, with 
humble reverence, conceive as inducing the Father of mer- 
cies to choose the precise moment which he does for calling 
each of his children out of this world. He read an account 
of an accidental fire, by which a house in the neighbourhood 
of London was consumed. The father and mother escaped 
from the flames, bearing, as they first supposed, all their 
treasures with them. But on reckoning them up, the father 
discovered that the youngest child, then an infant, had in 
the confusion of the moment been left behind in an upper 
chamber. He instantly rushed back in the midst of the con- 
flagration. He ascended the stairs, and was seen by the 
assembled crowds of anxious spectators to enter the apart- 
ment, now illuminated by the flames. He flew to the bed — 
seized the child — enfolded him in his arms — and, just as he 
was on the point of bearing him off in triumph, the floor 
gave way, and both were precipitated into the devouring 
element. Upon reading this, he could scarcely describe his 
feelings. In much weakness he was disposed to wonder 
why a merciful Providence should thus requite an act of such 
heroic tenderness. But after a moment's pause, the follow- 
ing reflection came to his relief. If the saying of the wise 
may be applicable here, " where the tree falleth there it 
shall lie ;" if precisely as our state is at the instant of death, 
so will oar character be fixed for ever, — how could this per- 
son have been summoned at a more auspicious moment ? 
To mortal eyes, indeed, no sight could have been more 
agonising, than that of a man perishing in so generous a 
struggle for the deliverance of his child. Such is the dark 
side of the picture which we see. Bat how glorious the 
reverse presented to the assembly of invisible spectators ! 
Amidst what joyful acclamations might these two have as- 



DEATH. 



155 



cended from the flames into the regions of the blessed ! 
How might the angels have rejoiced — with what transport 
might the spirits of the just be filled, when this parent en- 
tered the gates of heaven with his infant in his arms ; the 
one to live for ever amongst the band of innocents, the 
other to take his station with those who " lost their life in 
this world, that they might keep it unto life eternal !" — 
Woodward. 

" Death swallowed up in victory." Earth presents not a 
spectacle of equal grandeur to that of a Christian who has 
power to wrest the dart of the king of terrors from his hand 
on the very confines of an eternal world. His calm but 
lofty tone is the language of the conqueror, though in the 
midst of infirmity, death, and judgment. It is like the half 
hour before sunset— in the midst of nature's grandest and 
most majestic scenery — when there is not a breath to agitate 
the frailest leaf, or ripple the glassy smoothness of the water's 
surface — it is the sublime of tranquillity. 

It is said of Cleobis and Biton, that in absence of the 
horses, they drew their mother's chariot to the temple them- 
selves, for which obedient act of theirs she prayed, that they 
might both of them be rewarded with the greatest blessings 
that could possibly happen from God to man ; but so it hap- 
pened that they were both of them found dead in their beds 
the next morning. News thereof was brought to their 
mother, as matter of great misfortune, which she in a manner 
slighted, saying, I will never account myself unfortunate, 
that was the mother of two such sons, whom the gods have 
invested with immortality for their pious and obedient ac- 
tions. Shall a pagan mother, having no other light but 
that of dark nature, take it for a divine favour that her two 
sons did so early quit this life, and shall christian parents, 
or any other within the pale of the church, such as are better 
enlightened, repine and look sour upon heaven and upon 
God, when in mercy he has done for theirs, not what is 
pleasing to them, but what is most fit and commodious for 
both ; nothing being done but for the best to them that love 
him, so that, for the most part, life is not so much taken 



156 



DIVISION — DIFFERENCES. 



away, as death given for a special favour and advantage. — 
Spencer. 

Put the case that one man should give unto another many 
loaves of bread, conditioned that he should every day eat 
one ; but if the party should come to know that in one of 
them lay hid a parcel of deadly poison, yet in which of them 
it was he should be utterly ignorant, O how careful would 
he be in tasting any of them, lest he should light upon that 
which might prove his fatal destruction. Thus it is that 
God hath given unto us many days, — to some more, to some 
less, — but in one of these he hath, unknown to us, conveyed 
the bitter sting of death ; and it may so fall out, that in the 
day of our greatest rejoicing, a deadly cup of poison may be 
reached out unto us. Death, like an unbidden guest, may 
rush in upon us, and spoil all our mirth on a sudden. O 
how watchful, how diligent, should the consideration of these 
things make every one of us to be, to look upon every day 
as the day of our death, every breathing the last breathing 
we shall make ; to think upon the ringing of every passing- 
bell, that ours may be next; upon hearing the clock strike, 
that there is one hour less to live, and one step nearer to 
our long home, the house appointed for all living. — 
Ibid. 



Utbtston— differences. 

No discords are like those of the brethren ; the nearer 
the union, the greater the separation upon a breach; 
for natural ties being stronger than artificial, when they 
are once broken, they are hardly made up again, as 
seams when they are ripped may be sown again; but 
rents in the whole cloth are not so easily remedied. — Prov. 
xviii. 19. 



DIVISION — DIFFERENCES. 



157 



In the ringing" of bells, whilst every one keeps his due 
time and order, what a sweet and harmonious sound they 
make ! all the neighbouring villages are cheered with the 
sound of them ; but when once they jar and check each 
other, either jangling together, or striking preposterously, 
how harsh and unpleasing is the noise ! So that as we 
testify our public rejoicing by an orderly and well-timed 
peal, so when we would signify the town is on fire, we 
ring the bells backward in a confused manner. It is just 
thus in church and commonwealth ; when every one knows 
his station, and keeps their due ranks, there is a melodious 
concert of comfort and contentment; but when persons 
will be clashing with each other, the discord is grievous 
and extremely prejudicial. And so in the Church, ta 
away discipline, and the doctrine will not be long after. — 
Spencer. 

I have read or heard of a certain champion that came 
forth out of an army, and challenged any one of the 
other army to fight with him hand in hand. At last there 
steps forth a man to meet him ; and they being met to 
fight, and many of both armies gotten round to behold 
and see what would become of it, who should fall and who 
should stand ; at last, saith one of the two, " Who are 
you for ?" Saith the other, " Sir, I am for you, and I am 
come forth to save your life. Why," said he, " should we 
like fools kill one another, to make sport for these be- 
holders?" So they threw down their weapons and em- 
braced one another, and so parted with love, to the 
admiration of all that did behold them. Now, beloved, 
things are grown to a great height, and there is too much 
dissension among professors, and all men are upon the 
tip-toe at this time to see who shall fall, and who shall 
stand. But now, after all our animosities, if we should 
step up one to another, and embrace one another, how 
would this glorify God, and make religion glorious in the 
eyes of the world! O why should we that are professors, 
kill, wound, or abuse one another, to make sport for our 
common enemies that behold us ? Believe it, believe it, it 
is not too late, it is not too late to love one another. — 
Ibid. 



158 



DIVISION — DIFFERENCES. 



As you cannot have light without variety of colours, so 
you cannot have thought without difference of opinion. 
The rainbow, the creature of light, presents the loveliest 
picture of unity — and yet the variety of its colours consti- 
tutes its peculiar charm. Suppose that a man of science 
were to conceive the idea of reducing it to an uniform 
whiteness, and that it were possible by a chemical process 
to decompose this harmonious crescent, and to abstract 
from it colour after colour ; the bow itself would speedily 
vanish from the view, leaving the disappointed reformer to 
gaze on the dark cloud on whose bosom it rested. So the 
narrow-minded and cold-hearted bigot, not content to find 
in the Church substantial agreement amidst circumstantial 
variety, would reduce all to one single point of his own 
vision : and thus the faith of the Gospel vanishes under 
this rude and violent process. In matters connected with 
religion, there may be difference without opposition — va- 
riety without discord — shades of difference without real 
diversity of sentiment. It could never be intended that the 
people of God should all hold the same opinions ; if so, how 
could the apostle Paul say in reference to minor points of 
belief, " Let every man be fully persuaded in his own 
mind?" — Rev. James Godkin. 

Opinions are, in some sense, the features of the mind ; 
and there will always be a diversity of mental features 
during the present dispensation of things. The elect will 
never perfectly resemble each other till they perfectly 
resemble Christ in glory. I have seen a field here, and 
another there, stand thick with corn. A hedge or two has 
parted them. At the proper season the reapers entered. 
Soon the earth was disburthened, and the grain was con- 
veyed to its destined place ; where, blended together in 
the barn or in the stack, it could not be known that a 
hedge once separated this corn from that. Thus it is with 
the Church. Here it grows, as it were, in different fields ; 
severed, it may be, by various hedges. By-and-bye, when 
the harvest is come, all God's wheat shall be gathered into 
the garner, without one single mark to distinguish that 
once they differed in the outward circumstantials of modes 



DIVISION DIFFERENCES. 



159 



and forms. Hence appears, not only the illiberality, but 
also the absurdity, of being at daggers drawn with other 
people on account of differences merely extrinsic and cir- 
cumstantial. Narrow as the way is which leadeth unto 
life, it is yet broad enough to admit persons of divided 
judgment in things indifferent. There may be several paths 
in one and the same road; and shall I be so weak as to 
suppose that a professing brother is not in the way to ever- 
lasting happiness, only because he does not walk arm in 
arm with me, and tread in my particular track ? I grant 
that there is but one road to heaven ; namely, an interest 
in the atonement and righteousness of Christ ; for " ~No 
man cometh to the Father but by him." I believe, how- 
ever, and feel myself unutterably happy in believing, that 
this only avenue to eternal rest admits of much greater 
latitude than bigots of all denominations are aware of. 
Let, therefore, the travellers to the city of God bear in mind 
that amiable exhortation of Joseph to his brethren, " See 
that ye fall not out by the way." To these truly evangeli- 
cal and truly benevolent sentiments, I deem it my honour 
and happiness to subscribe with hand and heart. 

Philosophers say there cannot be vacuity in the world ; 
the world could not stand, but would be dissolved, if every 
part were not filled, because nature subsists by being one ; 
if there were the least vacuity, then all things would not 
be joined in one, there would not be a contiguity of one 
part with another : this is the reason why water will ascend 
when the air is drawn out of a pipe to fill it ; this is to pre- 
vent division in nature. O that we had but so much watch- 
fulness in us, that when we see there is like to be any breach 
of union, we would be willing to lay down our self-ends, 
our self-interests, and to venture ourselves to be anything 
in the world but sin, that so we may still be joining, still 
uniting, and not rending from each other. 

If two ships at sea, being of one and the same squadron, 
shall be scattered by storm from each other, how shall they 
come to the relief of each other? If, again, they clash 
together and fall foul, how shall the one endanger the 
other and herself too ? It was, of old, the Dutch device of 



160 



DUTY. 



two earthen pots swimming upon the water, with this 
motto, "If we knock together, we sink together." And 
most true it is, that if spleen or discontents set us too far 
one from another, or choler or anger bring us too near, it 
cannot but that intendment or design, whatsoever it be, like 
Jonah's gourd, shall perish in a moment, especially if the 
viperous and hateful worm of dissension do but smite it. — 
Spencer. 

If Christians, who have a matter of difference, would 
graciously agree to meet with each other in prayer, and to 
pray kindly for each other before the throne of grace ; 
surely if they meant the attainment of that right and truth 
which they prayed for, they might soon find it out and 
settle it accordingly ; but it is the flesh that comes in and 
mars all ; one cannot stoop, and the other will not. They 
are not so wise as Luther's two goats, that met upon a nar- 
row plank over a deep water, they could not go back and 
they dared not fight ; at length one of them lay down 
while the other went over him ; and so peace and safety 
attended both. Why should not believers try this method ? 



God took especial care that the bird sitting over the eggs 
in her nest should not be hurt, Deut. xxii. 6 ; but we find 
nothing to secure her if found abroad. In doing the duty 
of our place, we have Heaven's word for our security ; but 
on our own peril be it if we wander ; then are we, like 
Shiniei, out of its precincts, and lay ourselves open to some 
judgment or another: it is alike dangerous to do what we 
are not called to, and to neglect and leave undone the duty 
of our place. 

God when he created the heavenly bodies appointed 
them their respective paths in the regions of space. To 
each he gave its proper impulse, having previously fitted 



DUTY. 



1G1 



it for the performance of the revolution assigned it ; and 
in their respective orbits he has ever since upheld them, so 
that they all without exception fulfil the ends for which 
they were created. Thus in the new creation God has 
appointed to all their destined course through the vast ex- 
panse of moral and religious duty. He has also at the 
time of its new creation given to each soul the impulse 
necessary for it, together with all the qualities and dis- 
positions proper for the regulation of its motions accord- 
ing to his will ; and he yet further, by his continued and 
invisible agency, preserves them in their appointed way. 
But further than this the metaphor must not be pressed, 
for the heavenly bodies have no consciousness or volition, 
we have both : they too carry with them nothing that 
can cause an aberration, whilst we, alas ! deviate from the 
path assigned us, in instances without number. Still, how- 
ever, in the event the purposes of God are at last accom- 
plished, as with them, so with us. 

Augustus the emperor, hearing that a gentleman of 
Rome, notwithstanding a great burden of debt wherewith 
he was oppressed, slept quietly and took his ease, desired 
to buy the bed that he lay on : his servants marvelling 
thereat, he gave them this answer, that it seemed unto 
him to be some wonderful bed, and worth the buying, 
whereon a man could sleep that was so deeply involved. 
Surely, if we did but consider with ourselves the duty and 
debt we owe to God, to man, to our country, to our family, 
to home-born and strangers, especially to the household of 
faith, it would make us vow with ourselves never to suffer 
our eyelids to slumber, nor the temples of our head to take 
any rest until we had engaged ourselves to finish that 
charge whereunto we are appointed, and perfect the ac- 
count wherewith we are entrusted. — Spencer. 

It was the speech of Mr. Bradford the martyr, that he 
could not leave a duty till he had found communion with 
Christ in the duty, till he had brought his heart into a 
duty-like frame : he could not leave confession till he had 
found his heart touched, broken, and humbled for sin; 
nor petition till he had found his heart taken with the 

M 



162 



DUTY. 



beauties of things desired, and carried out after them ; nor 
could he leave thanksgiving, till he had found his spirit 
enlarged, and his soul quickened in the return of praises : 
just like that of St. Bernard, who found God in every duty, 
and communion with him in every prayer ; this was true, 
sincere, complete christian duty. And thus it is that the 
soul taken with Christ, desires and converses with him in 
prayer, in hearing, and meditation ; and the soul, so taken 
up with Christ, that duty doth not content it, if it find not 
Christ in the duty ; so that if the end of a duty hath not 
left it on this side Christ, it hath left it so far short of true 
comfort. — Ibid. 

Endeavours for the time to come often hinder and spoil 
faith. A man, when he sees his former simpleness and 
want of faith, and hath suffered the wreck of all his former 
estate, is apt to begin, of his own cost, to build a new ship 
to set to sea in, and lades it with a new stock, with a 
new ware of duties, which he never did before, and launches 
it into profession ; and thinks by his own rowing and haling 
in the end to get to Christ, who goes as fast from him as he 
makes after him, while he thus goes out in his own strength. 
But if he would tie his cock-boat to the ship of God's free 
grace, and commit himself to sea with it, and suffer the 
stream of it, and the gales of the Spirit to carry him on in 
the use of means, he might attain to faith, and to the right- 
eousness of God. Rom. ix. 32. The Jews sought it not 
by faith, but as it were by the works of the law. The people 
of Israel, if they would have gone into Canaan by the way 
of faith, in God alone, who offered to cast out their enemies 
before them, they might have done it ; but that way they 
rejected through unbelief, and then set to it by their own 
strength ; but they were beaten back by their enemies, and 
God commanded them to go back again, even to the brink 
of the Red Sea : so doth God deal with souls that are gone 
far into the wilderness, and are nigh believing and laying- 
hold, yet subject themselves not to God's way of working 
faith, but attempt it by their own strength ; and this casts 
them behindhand, and they are to begin the work anew ; 
and so they are brought thereby as far off as they were at 



DUTY. 



163 



first, and need to be humbled of those their new endeavours, 
and then they are fit to enter. God hath said, that no man 
shall prevail with his own strength. 1 Sam. ii. 6, 7. 

Our duties, giving glory to God, and doing homage to him, 
are nothing to his advantage, but only for ours : our duties 
towards him being like vapours ascending from the earth, 
not at all to refresh the clouds, but to return back in fruitful 
and refreshing showers. 

Though the total neglect of secret duties, in religion speaks 
a person to be a hypocrite, yet the performance of duties in 
secret will not demonstrate thee a sincere person ; hypocrisy 
is, in this, like the frogs brought on Egypt — no place was 
free from them, no, not their bed-chambers ; they crept into 
their most inward rooms. And so doth hypocrisy into 
chamber duties, as well as public ; indeed, though the places 
be secret where such duties are performed, yet the matter 
may be so handled, and is by some hypocrites, that they are 
not secret in their closets ; like the hen who goes into a 
secret place to lay her egg, but by her cackling tells all the 
house where she is, and what she is doing. 

It is not only, or chiefly, on our knees, or with our bibles, 
or in our churches, that we are engaged in acts of the 
highest religion, but also when we perform aright the happy 
duties of social life, and feel the holy impulses of human 
affections. In the former offices we contemplate God, in 
the latter we become images of God, faint reflections of his 
infinite love and goodness to the children of men. 

Perhaps an apter simile cannot be formed to illustrate 
social life than that presented by the planets encircling the 
sun , while they harmoniously perform their daily revolu- 
tions and their annual circuits, and while they act upon the 
moons which subordinately revolve around them, the whole 
orderly system obeys each impulse of attraction received 
from the central orb ; to him they turn for light and warmth ; 
and the face of each planet, while beholding his brilliant 
glory, reflects his bright image, and becomes itself a luminary. 
Had man preserved entire his original likeness to his 
Creator, he wo aid have displayed the divine likeness not 
only in his soul — not only in his bodily glory and endow- 

m 2 



164 



DUTY. 



ments, but likewise in his every minutest relation with other 
beings and things. Another very remarkable, and, I believe, 
designed coincidence, may be traced between the planetary 
and the social system : the one and the other are maintained 
in action and in order by an exactly similar principle, called 
attraction in the spheres, and love in the hearts of mankind ; 
and by this attraction or love, not only are the planets in 
the sky, and Christians upon earth, drawn mutually towards 
each other, and also drawn naturally towards each other ; 
but also drawn simultaneously towards their central source 
of life, and light, and happiness. — Christian Lady's Maga- 
zine. 

It is not required of us to show our ability, but our 
readiness. Our weakness and our inability doth not cut the 
bond of our duty. We send young children to school, we 
teach them to take up a book, to look at the letters, to show 
thereby what it is we would have them do, and what it is we 
intend to bring them up to. So doth God himself with us. 
And we like and approve it in little children that they will 
sit at school thus with a book in their hand, rather than 
be still at home, careless, playing with babies' rattles, and 
the like. We expect no more of them, nor our heavenly 
Father of us. 

How often hast thou found thyself at the entrance into a 
duty becalmed, as a ship which at first setting sail hath 
hardly wind to swell its sails, (while under the shore and 
shadow of the trees,) but meets a fresh gale of wind when 
got into the open sea ! Yea, didst thou never launch out 
to duty as the apostles to sea, with the wind on thy teeth, as 
if the Spirit of God, instead of helping thee on, meant to 
drive thee back, and yet hast found Christ walking to thee 
before the duty was done, and a prosperous voyage made of 
it at last ? Abraham saw not the ram which God had pro- 
vided for his sacrifice, till he was in the mount. In the 
mount of prayer God is seen ; even when the Christian does 
oft go up the hill with a heavy heart, because he can as yet 
have no sight of him. Turn not therefore back, but on 
with courage, he may be nearer than thou thinkest on. In 
that same hour, saith Christ, it shall he given unto you. Matt. 



EDUCATION. 



165 



x. 19. In the day, said David, that I cried, thou answeredst 
me, and gavest me strength in my soul. Ps. cxxxviii. It is no 
more than the promise gives us security for ; the way of the 
Lord is strength. Just as it is with a man, who at first 
going out on a journey feels a lassitude and feebleness in 
his limbs, but the further he goes the more strength he 
gathers, as if there arose strength out of the ground he 
walks on. The greater deadness and barrenness thy heart 
(to thy own sense) lay under, and the less hope thou hast 
to get out of the indisposition, the more joyful will the 
quickening presence of God be to thee. The assistance 
that thus surpriseth thee beyond thy expectation will be a 
true Isaac, a child of joy and laughter. 

It is easy to keep that armour bright which is daily used, 
but hanging by the walls till it is rusty it will ask some time 
and pains to furbish it over again : if an instrument be daily 
played upon, it is easily kept in tune ; but let it be but a 
while neglected and cast into a corner, the strings break, 
the bridge flies off, and no small labour is required to bring 
it into order again. And thus also it is in things spiritual, 
in the performance of holy duties, if we continue them with 
a settled constancy, they will be easy, familiar, and de- 
lightful to us ; but if once broken off, and intermitted, it is 
a new work to begin again, and will not be reduced to the 
former estate but with much endeavour and great difficulty, 
— Spencer. 



The gospel alone opens its warm bosom to the young. 
Christianity alone is the nurse of children. Atheism looks 
on them as on a level with the brutes. Deism, or scepticism, 
leaves them to every random influence, lest they catch a bias. 
The Romans exposed their infants. Barbarians and ancient 
tribes offered them as burnt sacrifices to Moloch. Maho- 



166 



EDUCATION. 



metanism holds mothers and infants as equally of an inferior 
cast. Hindooism forgets the infant she bears, and leaves it 
to perish on the banks of the Ganges. The Chinese are 
notorious as infanticides. Christianity alone contemplates 
them as immortal creatures, and prescribes for their tuition 
for heaven. And the nearer the time that the rising of the 
Sun of Righteousness approached, the warmer and more 
intense did the interest of the church show itself in regard 
to the young. Moses gave directions on the subject. 
Joshua and Abraham commanded their households after 
them. David declared how the young were to purify their 
way ; and Solomon distinctly enjoined, " Remember thy 
Creator in the days of thy youth ;" but it was reserved for 
Him who spake as never man spake, to press that sentence, 
" Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them 
not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." The temple of 
Juggernaut presents a grave ; the mosque, contempt ; in- 
fidelity, neglect for children. The bosom of the Son of 
God alone finds them a nursery and a home. 

It is important to distinguish between actual failure, and 
failure as to the production of visible effect. It appears 
more has been effected by education than is really apparent. 
The water has been frozen, and to bring the ice even to the 
state of cold water, a considerable quantity of caloric has 
been employed. They have expended much fuel, taken 
much pains, enough to make the water boil had it been cold 
water when they began ; but though, when they put their 
hand in the vessel, they now feel the water cold, even that 
is an advance upon the ice. So when they saw the state of 
crime, however they might lament it, they consider what the 
extent of evil would have been but for so much religious 
education. In calculating the good done, the evil prevented 
must be considered, and if this is not so apparent, it is not 
less real. 

Let not that be considered a case of failure, in which 
visible effects are not immediately apparent. The farmer, 
sometimes, in turning over his ground, brings within the 
warmth of the sun seeds and roots long buried in the 
ground, without any exhibition of vitality, now destined to 



EXPERIENCES. 



167 



flourish. Over the seed sown in the infant mind it is 
possible a vast heap of rubbish may be cast, and the failure 
of the experiment may be deplored ; but the seed is there, 
and it may be, years afterwards, some upturning of the 
ground, some shaking of the rubbish, may awaken recollec- 
tions of the past ; the old feeling may revive, and after 
years of forgetfulness, the instruction of infancy may bear 
fruit, and prove that the seed which has been sown is the 
incorruptible seed of the word of God, which liveth and 
abideth for ever ! 

The Jewish rabbis observe a very strict method in the 
instruction of their children, and others, according to their 
age and capacity. At five years old they were filii legis, 
sons of the law, to read it. At thirteen they were called 
filii precepti, sons of the precept, to understand the law ; 
then they received the passover as a sacrament, for even 
children did eat it, as a remembrance of their deliverance 
out of Egypt, and then also they were purified. At fifteen 
years old they came to be Talmudistce, and went to deeper 
points of the law, and talmudisk doubts. Thus did the 
Jews, and let not Christians fall behind them, in propagating 
the truth of Jesus Christ their master. Let children be 
well instructed, principled, and catechised, in the funda- 
mentals of the christian religion ; for, without catechising, 
the people perish for want of knowledge. In a word, cate- 
chising is as well a family as a church duty. — Spencer. 



^Experiences. 

If a man but see his deficiencies, then by a single glance of 
the eye may he also see how the doctrines of the gospel and 
these deficiencies fit to one another ; and thus, by an act of 
intuition, may a man without learning, but with a conscience 
simply awakened, be made to perceive what no erudition, 
and no elaborate contemplation of the articles of orthodoxy 
will make another man to perceive whose conscience is 



168 



EXPERIENCES. 



imawakened. It is somewhat as if a fragment of anything 
was broken away from some mass of which at one time it 
formed a part. All the hollows and all the protuberances 
on one surface will be in a state of most accurate adjustment 
with the corresponding protuberances and hollows upon the 
other. But it is not looking, however intently, to one of 
these surfaces, that we shall come to ascertain the truth of 
this separation ; or if re-union be possible, the place at which 
the re-union should be made. It is not by the most strict 
and scientific measurement of the various angles and uneven- 
nesses which have been made at the place of disruption, if 
we have only one side of the fracture to look upon. But if 
we have both sides to compare the one with the other, we 
may, with the rapid inspection of a moment, perceive what 
the labour of a whole life expended on the inspection of one 
side could not have enabled us to perceive. We may come 
at once to the belief, that here at one time a part was rent 
away — and this is the very fragment which has fallen off — 
and that on the rock from which it was detached, we behold 
its precise and certain counterpart — a conclusion to which we 
never should have come by the single contemplation of the 
precipice that is above us, but to which we come immedi- 
ately, and as if by the light of intuition, on comparing it to 
the dissevered piece that is beneath us. And such is the cer- 
tainty of our religious experience. — Dr. Chalmers. 

There are many high and heavenly things announced to 
us in the New Testament. And there are earthly things 
too, such as the hidden things of the heart, for the full dis- 
closure of which the eye of conscience must be opened, that 
we may perceive how truly it is that the Bible tells us of our 
wayward and wilful alienation from God — and how right- 
eously therefore he may hold us in the light of everlasting 
outcasts from the place where his honour dwelleth. It 
tells us of a great disruption that took place between earth 
and heaven, and points out the way in which a connexion 
may again be established between them. That our Chris- 
tianity should become a matter of home and practical exercise, 
instead of amatter of distant speculation,or rather, that,beside 
its doctrinal we may obtain a view of its experimental evi- 



EXPERIENCES. 



169 



dence also, we must look to one side of the disruption as 
well as the other of it ; and if by the eye of conscience we 
are made to see ourselves, while by the eye of a simple per- 
usal we see the word of Him who hath spoken to us from 
heaven — then, as by the light of immediate revelation, may 
we be made to recognise in the adaptation which obtains 
between unaided nature below, and that doctrine which is 
offered to our contemplation from above, that we indeed 
have broken loose from God ; but that this is the way in 
which the old alliance between earth and heaven will again 
be cemented together. Thus conscience becomes to us as 
another sense, and we see not by faith, but, as it were, by 
sight. — Ibid. 

To be convinced how it is that one may be made to believe 
in answer to his prayer, and yet that the belief may be ra- 
tional, and upon evidence — let us only think of the effect 
were a tenfold power given to the faculty of sight. Then a 
whole world of novelties that had before escaped all notice, 
might at once be ushered into observation — new objects alto- 
gether, and new appearances and shades of colours in objects 
that before, in a gross and general way, had been quite 
familiar to us. New convictions of things would instantly 
spring up in the person who had thus been visited ; and, 
instead of any lack of evidence, it would be evidence at first 
hand — strong at least as that of ocular demonstration, and 
impressing a confidence upon the mind as well warranted as 
that which we repose in the intimations of our senses. 
There would, on this supposition, be the revelation of many 
new facts and new objects ; but our belief in their reality 
would be as distant as possible from a rash or misguided 
fanaticism. It would be vision with the eye of the body, 
and not the vagary of a heated imagination at all. Neither 
would the belief now engendered be the fruit of any new 
facts or phenomena, now for the first time brought near to 
him. It would be solely the fruit of a now clearer and more 
penetrating inspection, cast by the medicated eye upon old 
objects. It would be the simple result of a look upon pre- 
existent nature, but of a look more powerful and perspicuous 
than we had ever been able to cast upon it before. So the 



170 



EXPERIENCES 



little world of facts and feelings into which a new religious 
experience introduces us, becomes to us a positive evidence 
of that to which we were before strangers, and serves for 
a substantial ground of belief. The same renovation that 
we have just supposed to take place on the eye of the body, 
may take place on the eye of consciousness — on that eye 
whose office it is to look inwardly upon the tablet of the 
heart, and to take notice of the various characters and linea- 
ments that are thereupon engraven. In virtue of our moral 
earnestness, and as the fruit of those efforts and those prayers 
to which this earnestness hath given rise, some film of pride 
or prejudice that had before obstructed the view of our own 
character might now be cleared away. We might in conse- 
quence be now favoured with a reach of discernment that we 
never before had among the arcana of our own spirit. We 
see nothing that was not there before ; but we see what to 
us was invisible before. It is to the pre-existent nature 
within his breast that he now looks to certain antecedent 
realities, from which the veil that was formerly upon his 
heart is now taken away. Let the power of consciousness 
but be augmented, and there is nought of phantasy whatever 
in those new truths which now address themselves to the 
faculty of internal observation. They are not new in point 
of existence, recognised by the mental eye now purified and 
made more powerful than before, and to the reality of which, 
therefore, we may have in every way as good evidence as we 
have to the reality of our own thoughts. 

We have seen a distant land on the other side of a bay or 
arm of the sea, stretching along the horizon, and too remote 
for the observation of its scenery. But the power of vision 
may be strengthened by a telescope ; and they are not illu- 
sion^ ; surely, but stable and antecedent realities, which we 
are made by the telescope to perceive. Suppose different 
individuals to have the advantage of this help to their vision, 
— still, each would behold the same things, and, instead of 
the phantasmata of an aerial imagination, the eyes of all 
would rest upon and recognise the very same objects, the 
actual houses, and spires, and fields, and forests of a land- 
scape that has now for the first time started into sudden, yet 



EXPERIENCES. 



171 



sure and satisfactory revelation. And so those feelings and 
affections which are experienced by different individuals^ 
and which are the same under the same given circumstances, 
are not illusions, but are properly described as religious ex- 
periences ; and their reality is proved by the numbers of 
those who have experienced them, just as those who use the 
telescope can believe in the reality of those objects which 
formed the landscape. — Dr. Chalmers. 

If a person, who has been long in possession of a large 
estate comes in process of time to have his title disputed, 
he rummages every corner of his secretoire, and of his strong- 
boxes, to find the original deeds ; which having found, he 
appeals to as authentic vouchers. Thus past experiences of 
the grace of God, though not proper to be rested in, may 
yet be recollected with comfort, and referred to with ad- 
vantage by a deserted saint, in an hour of doubt and dark- 
ness. — Spencer. 

Some small savour of life is diffused abroad among many 
who are of an honest and good heart ; and from the words 
themselves only, though ill understood, those who fear God, 
drink in some little sweetness of the breath of life, and some 
small taste of consolation ; like the faint fragrance which is 
found in the air that is not far from a bed of roses. This 
experience is like also unto a simple man passing through a 
flowery and a sweet smelling meadow, who, though he knows 
not the peculiar nature and properties of the flowers and 
herbs, yet finds his senses regaled with the general fra- 
grance. 

It would be as foolish to deny the existence of what is 
called christian experience, as to deny that individuals who 
are under a process of cure or healing, have any conscious- 
ness of the effects which are produced by the medicines 
that are prescribed to them. So long as the feelings of sick- 
ness and health, of bodily ease and pain, differ— so long a 
person must be conscious of a change in passing from one to 
the other. The body cannot cast off its exhaustion and dis- 
ease, and again be clothed with its native energies, and the 
patient be all the while unconscious of it. Was there no 
experience of change in Naaman when the leprosy passed 



172 



EXPERIENCES. 



from him, and his flesh became as the flesh of a little child ? 
Or in the woman who touched the hem of the Saviour's gar- 
ment, and felt the healing virtue pervading her frame ? 
Did the jailor at Philippi recognise no change when his 
ferociousness was exchanged for joy and peace in believing? 
Surely in these cases there was certainty serving as a basis 
for consciousness. In like manner, if the gospel is des- 
tined and fitted to act as a remedy, there must be a sensible 
experience to correspond with it. There must be a con- 
sciousness of the effects, if the truth has exerted a searching- 
power on the conscience, a healing influence on the heart, 
and a transforming operation on the whole character. If it 
has infused a new principle of life into the soul, giving a 
new tone and direction to its thoughts and pursuits, and 
surrounding it by a healthier and holier atmosphere than it 
ever before breathed, there must be some knowledge of all 
this. As the process of divine influence advances or retro- 
grades ; as it experiences checks from within, or counterac- 
tions from without ; as there is a vigorous and persevering 
co-operation on our part with God's revealed purposes and 
plans, or a state of inactivity or positive resistance, so will 
the work of salvation be advancing or receding. Now all 
this makes up what we understand by religious experience, 
or the christian life. 

The faithful preaching of the gospel produces certain 
effects upon the understanding, the conscience, and the heart 
of the sinner. Of their existence as phenomena there can 
be no question ; the fact of the operation of the Holy Spirit 
of God upon the soul, as a truth, will be also admitted ; and 
the dispositions or emotions, whether permanent or momen- 
tary, are undoubted facts, cognizable as such by testimony, 
as well as by consciousness. Consciousness, we admit, 
could not settle the question of their being the work of the 
Spirit. All that consciousness can do is to recognise them 
as facts, their origin must be determined by another crite- 
rion. Now that other criterion we have, and it is in constant 
use with believers. And just as in chemistry the nature and 
origin of any substance may be distinctly pronounced on, 
when its component parts are subjected to the proper test, 



EXPERIENCES. 



173 



so the nature of these emotions and effects may be ascer- 
tain by their proper criterion. The scriptures furnish us 
with these tests. Here we have the simple admission that 
there are certain phenomena existing — a certain operation 
to which these phenomena may or may not be assigned — 
and a certain test by which that operation may be deter- 
mined. There is nothing: in all this that sound reason can 
repudiate. Delusions do, and may creep into the church ; 
individuals may, and do profess to be under heavenly influ- 
ence when they know not what manner of spirit they are 
of. All this is not denied ; but what of this ? Does the non- 
application, or the misapplication, if you please, of a test, do 
away with the existence and value of a test ? Or will you 
argue against its use from its too frequent abuse ? 

Christian, bless God for the experiences and sensible taste 
thou hast at any time of God's love ; but know that we 
cannot judge of our faith, whether weak or strong, by them. 
Experiences are like crutches, which do indeed help a lame 
man to go, but they do not make the lame man sound or 
strong ; food and physic must do that. And therefore, 
Christian, labour to lean more on the promise, and less on 
sensible expressions of God's love, whether it be in the pre- 
sent feeling, or past experiences of it. I would not take 
you off from improving these, and limit the actings of our 
faith. A strong man, though he doth not lean on his staff 
all the way he goes, as the lame man doth on his crutch 
which bears his whole weight, yet he may make a good 
use of it now and then to defend himself when set upon by 
a thief, or a dog, by the way. Thus the strong Christian 
may make good use of his experiences in some temptations, 
though he does not lay the weight of his faith upon them, 
but upon the promise. 

Suppose a, child to behold a tree covered with the richest 
foliage, adorned with goodly fruit, and spreading its branches 
in a summer's sun. Let it be told that all this beauty with 
which the tree is clothed is but for a little season, and that 
it will be stript of its foliage, and lose its fruit. The child 
may form some indistinct conception of your meaning, but 
the great change which is so soon to take place will be 



174 



EXAMINATION. SELF. 



little realised. But if you bring him to the tree when 
winter has come and stript its withered branches, he will 
instantly have a more perfect intelligence of the change, 
from this single observation, than from all that he had read, 
or been told of it before. So when religion has in any sin- 
cerity been regarded as a rule, it will in the hour of afflic- 
tion and necessity be resorted to as a support for the heart. 
And in so applying ourselves to it. more acquaintance with 
its true influences may be gained in a single day, than in 
many years conscientiously spent, but not marked by any 
special trials. Many an obscure page of God's providential 
dealings with his people will, as with a single glance, be 
opened to us. 



Examination, Sbtff. 

In the matter of self-examination this is a soul's en- 
couragement, that it shall not want God's help in this search, 
if you go about it with honest desires. A justice will not 
only give a warrant to search a suspicious house, but, if need 
be, will command others to be aiding to him in this business. 
Word, ministers, Spirit, all thou shaft have for thy assistance 
in this work; only have a care thou dost not mock God in 
it : that soul deserves to be damned for this sin, who in the 
search for hypocrisy plays the hypocrite ; like a naughty, 
dishonest constable, that willingly overlooks him whom he 
is searching for, and then says he cannot find him. 

Let us be careful to get the true balance to weigh ourselves. 
There are the scales in which the world weigh men and 
things, and decide their amount of good or evil. But these, 
or the like balance, are so appended to the beam as to favour 
one scale more than the other. They will therefore deceive 
us in forming our estimate of things. For sin, when put 
into them, and love for God, and devotedness to him, like 
two feathers cast into the scale, will weigh so light, that they 
will kick the beam when the meanest worldly trifle is 



EXAMINATION, SELF. 



175 



weighed against them, while the scale in which the world 
weigh their virtues, will have a vast preponderance in their 
favour. There is also the balance of conscience, and this is 
more false and deceitful (if possible) than the other. The 
conscience of the natural man is like a fraudulent man with 
false weights and measures, from whom we shall be sure to 
have no just weight. We must therefore take the golden 
balance of the sanctuary. Here, indeed, even our best 
services, when weighed with the law of God, will be found 
wanting ; but the fulness of the redemption in the blood of 
Jesus — the freeness of his promises to every repenting sinner 
— the merit of his sinless obedience, — these, on which the 
believer builds his hopes, however nicely weighed in the 
balance of truth, will want nothing of that true weight which 
the justice of God will demand at our hands. 

When the truth of our sincerity requires to be weighed 
out in drachms and scruples, and runs so sparingly as from 
an exhausted vessel — when the state of the conscience must 
be ascertained by a theological barometer, the health of the 
soul must be in a very feeble and crazy condition. 

'Tis related of Sextus, the philosopher, that at the end of 
the day he thoroughly examined the actions of it. Seneca 
tells us it was his daily practice to give an account of his 
actions before the judicatory of conscience. The author of 
the golden verses gives counsel, in order to proficiency in 
virtue, to revise in our thoughts at night, " Wherein have I 
transgressed, what have I done, what have I omitted?" 
'Tis prudent advice how to make slothful servants indus- 
trious, in the morning to prescribe their work, in the evening 
to receive an account of what is done or left undone, and to 
commend or censure, to reward or punish, according to their 
diligence or neglect. There are rarely found servants of 
so depraved a temper, so rebellious to authority 7 and reason, 
so untractable, but they will mend by this managing. Thus 
let us charge our souls at the beginning; of the day with a 
diligent regard to the duties of it, and at the close require a 
strict account. If we have had our conversation in godly 
sincerity, the joy of it will be an oil of gladness to make us 
more active and cheerful in God's service ; but if we have 



176 



ELECTION. 



bsen slack and remiss, if sins have been easily entertained, 
and easily excused, the remembrance will imbitter sin, and 
make us more vigilant for the future. 



Election. 

Inward holiness, and eternal glory, are the crown with 
which God adorns and dignifies his elect. But they are 
not the cause of election. A king is not made a king by 
the royal robes he wears, and by the crown that encircles 
his brow ; but he therefore wears his robes, and puts on his 
crown, because he is a king. 

There is much the same difference between election and 
effectual calling, as between a private manuscript and a 
printed book. In election, God, as it were, wrote and en- 
tered us in his heavenly register ; but it is still kept by 
him, and none know the contents but himself : whereas, in 
effectual calling, God, as it were, prints off a sheet of the 
book of life, and publishes it, and makes it known to the 
soul, and to the church. 

Election having once pitched upon a man, it will find him 
out, and call him home wherever he be. Zaccheus is called 
out of accursed Jericho ; Abraham out of idolatrous Uz, of 
the Chaldeans ; Nicodemus and Paul from the college of 
the Pharisees, Christ's sworn enemies ; Dionysius and Dama- 
ris out of superstitious Athens. In whatsoever dunghills 
God's jewels are hid, election will both find them out, and 
fetch them out. — Spencer. 

A man may have his name set down in the Chronicles, 
yet lost ; wrought in durable marble, yet perish ; set upon 
a monument equal to a Colossus, yet be ignominious ; in- 
scribed on the hospital gates, yet perish everlastingly ; 
written in the front of his own house, yet another come to 
possess it. All these are but writings in the dust, or upon 
the waters, where the characters perish so soon as they are 
made ; they no more prove a man happy than the fool 



ELECTION. 



177 



could prove Pontius Pilate to be so, because his name was 
written in the creed. But the true comfort is this, when a 
man by assurance can conclude with his own soul that his 
name is written in those eternal leaves of heaven, in the 
book of God's election, which shall remain legible to all 
eternity. Luke x. 20. — Ibid. 

We may adopt Archbishop Leighton's beautiful illustra- 
tion of a chain, which he describes as having its first and last 
link — election and final salvation — up in heaven, in God's 
own hands ; the middle one, which he says is effectual call- 
ing, being let down to earth into the hearts of his children ; 
and they laying hold on it have sure hold on the other two, 
for no power can sever them. Then, the events that lead to 
that calling, and those that follow it, even to the final con- 
summation and bliss of God's people in heaven, may be so 
many connected and connecting links, not one of which but 
bears evidence of the master's hand. How often does Satan 
exert all the skill of his infernal mechanism to hammer out 
an additional fetter for his blind and hopeless captive, 
already fast bound in misery and iron, which is laid hold on 
by the divine Alchemist, and changed into a golden link 
in the wondrous chain of providential mercies, destined to 
form an everlasting song of praise in the month of that rau- 
somed sinner ! We can say it of every dispensation towards 
us, that God has wrought it into a link in that precious 
chain ; and such indeed is the retrospect of bygone days, 
when thus enlightened by the beams of covenant mercy. 
— Christian Lady's Magazine. 

Suppose a rope cast down into the sea for the relief of a 
company of poor shipwrecked men ready to perish, and that 
the people in the ship, or on the shore, should cry out unto 
them to lay hold of the rope that they may be saved ; were 
it not unreasonable and foolish curiosity for any of those poor 
distressed creatures, now at the point of death, to dispute 
whether did the man that cast the rope intend and purpose 
to save me, or not, and so, minding, that which helpeth not, 
neglect the means of safety offered ? Thus it is that Christ 
holdeth forth (as it were) a rope of mercy to poor drowned 
and lost sinners, and setteth out an open market of heavenly 

N 



178 



ELECTION. 



treasure ; it is our parts, then, without any further dispute, to 
look upon it as a principle afterwards to be made good, that 
Christ hath gracious thoughts towards us, but for the present 
to lay hold on the rope, ply the market, and husband well 
the grace that is offered. And as the condemned man be- 
lieveth, first, the king's favour to all humble supplicants, 
before he believes it to himself ; so the order is, being hum- 
bled for sin, to adhere to the goodness of the promise, nor 
to look to God's intention in a personal way, but to his com- 
placency and tenderness of heart to all repentant sinners, 
(1 Tim. i. 15,) before he ranks himself in the front of those 
sinners. 

If any man would know whether the sun shineth or not, 
let him go no further, but look upon the ground and the 
objects around him, to see the reflection of the sunbeams 
from thence, and not upon the body of the sun, which will 
but the more dazzle his sight. The pattern is known by the 
picture, the cause by the effect ; let no man then soar aloft to 
know whether he be elected or not, but let him gather the 
knowledge of his election from the effectualness of his call- 
ing, and sanctification of his life spent in obedience to the 
revealed will of heaven. — Spencer. 

A senator relating to his son the great honour decreed to 
a number of soldiers whose names were written in a book 
the son was importunate to see that book ; the father shows 
him the outside ; it seemed so glorious, that he desired him 
to open it. " No, by no means, it was sealed by the council." 
" Then," says the son, " tell me if my name be there V s The 
father replied, "The names are secreted to the senate." - "The 
son studying how he might get some satisfaction, desired him 
to deliver the merits of those inscribed soldiers. The father 
relates to him their noble achievements and worthy acts of 
valour, wherewith they had eternised their names ; " Such are 
written in," said he, " and none but such must be written in 
this book." The son consulting with his own heart that he 
had no such trophies to show, but had spent his time in 
courting ladies rather than encountering knights, that he 
was better for a dance than a march, that he knew no drum 
but the tabret, no courage but to be drunk ; hereupon he 



ENVY. 



179 



presently retired himself, repented, entered into a combat 
with his own affections, subdued them, became temperate, 
continent, valiant, virtuous. When the soldiers came to 
receive their wreaths, he steps in too, challenges one for 
himself ; being asked upon what title, he answered, " If honours 
be given to conquerors, I have gotten the noblest conquest 
of all." "Wherein ?" — "These have subdued strange foes, but 
I have conquered myself." Now, whosoever thou art that 
desirest to know whose names are written in heaven, who is 
elected to life eternal, it shall not be told thee, this, or that 
individual ; but generally thus, men so qualified, faithful in 
Christ, and to Christ, obedient to the truth and for the truth; 
they have subjected their own affections, and resigned them- 
selves to the guidance of the heavenly will ; these men have 
made noble conquests, and shall have princely crowns : find 
but in thyself this testimony, and thou art sure of thy elec- 
tion. — Ibid. 



It is said of one Pelaretus a Lacedemonian, that, standing 
for a place of credit to be one of the three hundred, which was 
a degree of honour at Sparta, and missing of it, though a man 
highly deserving, yet he was so far from complaining, or grudg- 
ing or grieving thereat, that when others marvelled at his con- 
tentment, and inquired of his reason, he told them that 
he rejoiced at the happiness of that commonwealth, 
that it had three hundred men more worthy to govern 
than himself. But how many are there in these times 
of clearer judgment, wherein it is apparently known that 
true godliness teacheth every man contentment to move in 
that orb and place where God hath placed him, with that 
portion which God hath given him ; yet, as weak eyes are 
offended at clear lights, so they fret at the brightness of 
other men's fortunes, virtues, and prosperity, and envy be- 
cause of other men's wealth or honour ? How many rage 

n 2 



180 



EXAMPLE. 



and storm, not that three hundred, nor three, but some one 
eminent person is preferred before them 1 — Spencer. 

As an earthquake ariseth from a tumultuous vapour shut 
up in the caverns and bowels of the earth, where it tosseth 
and tumbleth until it break out and overturn all that stand - 
eth in the way of it ; so envy is a pestilent vapour which 
lieth in the bowels of a man, where it boileth and fretteth 
until it find occasion to vent itself, and then it tumbleth and 
throweth down all that standeth in the malicious eye of it. 
Houses and trees stand firm against a tempest of lightning, 
or a flood of a rain, and men stand out against the cruelty 
of sudden wrath and rage of a man's lasting anger ; but 
what house or tree standeth against the force of an earth- 
quake ; and who is able to stand before the force of envy ? 
— Prov. xxvii. 4. — Ibid. 



Sample. 

It is recorded of one of the most distinguished painters of 
former days, that when he was a mere boy, after viewing a 
painting by Raphael for some time with silent transport, he 
suddenly broke out with joy beaming in his countenance, as 
if he had found a great treasure, " I too am a painter ! " He 
gave himself to the art, and produced works not unlike that 
which had kindled in him such enthusiasm. In like man- 
ner it may be regarded as a happy sign in ourselves when 
the spiritual image of an Abraham, an Elijah, or a Paul, 
transports us with affection, and kindles the ardent wish 
within us that our hearts were formed like theirs. 

Let us compare a good and well-known character of mo- 
dern times with one of the early days of Christianity — a 
modern with a primitive Christian. There is a want of 
strength, a vagueness of character, in the modern, which we 
do not discern in the ancient. The former is like the 
modern Greek pictures of saints, which are destitute of the 
relief afforded by light and shade ; while the latter resem- 



ERROR. 



181 



bles a picture or statue of one of the Italian schools — the 
one set out in all the strength and variety of harmonious 
colouring ; the other breathing life — a mighty conception of 
Raphael, or Michael Angelo. 

The scriptures present us with a great diversity of charac- 
ters, where the good and bad elements which form the cha- 
racter of our nature are brought out in bold relief. As the 
chemist finds out each component element of a mineral by 
subjecting it to numerous and various tests ; so do we detect 
the principles of the human heart by a similar experience of 
its condition under novel and diversified circumstances. Our 
views are narrowed by the examples of daily life, and our 
standard low. But the breadth of view presented, and the 
imposing figure which those characters exhibit, being strip- 
ped by time of all mean and vulgar detail of daily life, and 
seen but in their bold outlines, while they sharpen our moral 
discernment, create also a loftiness of feeling. Such exam- 
ples are like pictures glowing with sublimity, or like a noble 
statue instinct with life. 



The cynic answered smartly, who, coming out of a brothel, 
and asked whether he was not ashamed to be seen coming- 
out of such a naughty house, said, the shame was to go in, 
but honesty to come out. 0 sirs, 'tis bad enough to fall into 
an error, but worse to persist. The first shows thee to be a 
weak man, " humanum est errare ;" but the other makes thee 
to be like the devil, who is to this day of the same mind he 
was at his first fall. — Spencer. 

If an ounce weighs down the scale, there is no doubt but 
that a stone would do it. If the lesser sin presses down to . 
destruction, how can we rationally think that the greater 
should escape it ? Error stands at a farther distance from, 
yea, a full contrariety to truth, than ignorance. Error is 
ignorance with a dye upon it. He that eats little or 



182 



FAITH. 



nothing must needs die, much more he that eats rank 
poison. The apostle doth not only tell us of "perni- 
cious doctrines," and " damnable heresies," but he tells us 
they bring swift damnation upon them that hold them. — 
2 Pet. ii. 1. I pray observe what an accent he lays upon the 
damnation that comes by these corrupt doctrines; he calls it 
" swift destruction." 

Christ compares the errors of the Pharisees to leaven. 
Why so ? Because of its secret mixture with the wholesome 
bread. You do not make your bread all of leaven, for then 
none would eat it ; but you mingle it skilfully, and by that 
means both go down together. Thus our Lord intimates 
that the Pharisees mix their errors with many truths ; and 
therefore directed them to beware, lest, with the truths, they 
swallow the errors also. 



How preferable is the original, durable, and vivifying 
light of the sun, to the borrowed, evanid, unanimating lustre 
of the moon ! The former, while it illuminates the eye and 
uncovers the elegant scenes of creation, warms the earth and 
makes it fruitful, diffuses cheerfulness, and imparts enrich- 
ment to no fewer than six primary, and ten secondary worlds. 
As great is the difference between a cool historical faith that 
floats in a contemplative head, and the faith of God's elect, 
which warms, invigorates, and purifies the members of 
Christ's church. The former is a mere moonlight faith, 
which, however clear, so far as it goes, yet leaves us as cold 
and as barren as it found us. The latter, like the solar com- 
munications, enlivens and fertilises the soul, filling it with 
joy and peace through the power of the Holy Ghost; and 
adorning it with the gems, and flowers, and fruits of grace. 

Faith in God's promises may be compared to a bank note ; 
full and felt possession of the blessings promised is like ready 
cash. The man who has bank-notes to any given value 



FAITH, 



183 



looks upon himself as possessed of so much money, though, 
in reality, it is only so much paper. Thus faith is as satisfied, 
and rests with as great complacency in the promises of 
Jehovah, as if it had all the blessings of grace and glory in 
hand, In faith's estimation God's note is current coin. 

What can be more feeble than the ivy, the jessamine, or 
the vine T "Yet these, by the assistance of their tendrils or 
claspers, rise and are supported, until they sometimes mount 
as high as the tree or the wall that sustains them. So the 
weak believer laying hold on Jesus by the tendril of faith, 
rises into the fulness of God, defies the invading storm, and 
becomes a fruitful vine upon the wall of a house. — Spencer 

Under the blessed Spirit, faith produces holiness, and holi- 
ness strengthens faith. Faith, like a fruitful parent, is plen- 
teous in all good works ; and good works, like dutiful chil- 
dren, confirm and add to the support of faith. 

It may be, thou art a poor, trembling soul ; thy faith is 
weak, and thy assaults from Satan strong, thy corruptions 
great, and thy strength little ; yea, thou art apt to dread 
that thou shalt one day be cast as a wreck on the shore of 
the infernal world. And yet, to this day thy grace lives. 
Thou art still longing, panting, desiring, wishing, and groan- 
ing for God. Is it not worth while to turn and see this 
strange sight ? A broken ship, with masts and hull rent 
and torn, full of leaks, yet towed along by Almighty power, 
through a tempestuous sea, (nor tempestuous only, but thick 
set with armadas of sins, afflictions, doubts, and tempta- 
tions,) safely into God's harbour ! To seethe poor smoking 
flax, in the face of the boisterous winds, and liable to the 
frequent dashes of quenching waves, yet not blown out ! 
In a word, to see a weak stripling in grace held up in 
God's arms, until all enemies are under his feet ! " This is 
the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." 

It is by faith that we contemplate unseen things. To 
the eye of a clown a planet appears but a twinkling star ; 
but if he looked through a telescope, and were able to cal- 
culate, he would perceive that it was a great world, and 
would be astonished at its distance and magnitude. While 



184 



FAITH. 



the gay and busy are moving on their little mole-hills, full 
of anxiety, faith thus reaches beyond the world ; it views 
death as at hand ; it looks at heaven, and catches a glimpse 
of its glory ; it looks at hell, and sees the torments of the 
condemned ; it looks at judgment, and realises that awful 
day ; it looks at eternity, and says, " Our light afflictions, 
which are but for a moment, work for us a far more ex- 
ceeding and eternal weight of glory ; while we look not 
at the things which are seen, but at the things which are 
not seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal, but 
the things which are not seen are eternal. — Spencer. 

Infidelity and faith both look through the same perspec- 
tive glass, but at contrary ends. Infidelity looks through 
the wrong end of the glass, and therefore sees these 
objects which are near afar off, and makes great things 
little; diminishing the greatest spiritual blessings, and 
removing far from us threatened evils. Faith looks at the 
right end, and brings the blessings that are afar off close to 
our eyes, and multiplies God's mercies, which in distance 
lost their greatness. 

The faith which purifies the heart is an active moving 
thing in the believer. Stagnant waters are dead ; spring- 
ing waters are wont to be called " living." It is such a faith 
that carries an agitation with it in a man's soul. So that, 
whereas it is a fountain agitated by that faith, it will be a 
self-purifying fountain. Fountains purify themselves : 
standing waters do not so. This fountain hath a self- 
purifying power put into it ; not as if it hath this of itself, 
but as the Divine Spirit, moving the fountain by a vital 
principle put into it, purifies it. What a believer are you ? 
What doth your faith do ? Doth it move your heart ? 
Doth it carry your soul with it 1 Is there a spirit or power 
of faith working in your faith ? Doth it operate ? Doth 
it transform 1 It is " with the heart man believeth unto 
righteousness." But when any must say, " My faith lets 
my heart lie as a dead thing still, as dead as a stone ; an 
impure thing still ; is this, indeed, the faith upon which 
you will venture for eternity? A faith that effects no- 



FAITH. 



185 



thing, a mere negative faith ; to wit, a faith which only 
stands in not believing the contrary, or not disbelieving 
such and such things ! 

There is the analogy of faith : it is a master-key, which 
not only opens particular doors, but carries you through the 
whole house. But an attachment to a rigid system is 
dangerous. Luther once turned out the Epistle of St. 
James, because it disturbed his system. I shall preach, 
perhaps, very usefully upon two opposite texts, while kept 
apart ; but, if I attempt nicely to reconcile them, it is ten to 
one if I do not begin to bungle. 

There is as real a difference between the strong believer 
and the weak, or rather, I should say, between the believer 
who exercises strong faith, and the believer who has but a 
partial and weak faith, as there is among the armies that 
fight human battles, between the veriest coward that ever 
disgraced the standard under which he fought, and the 
bravest soldier who was the admiration of his friends and 
foes. For the one who exercises strong faith is ready to 
fight the strong fight of this world ; on the contrary, the 
man who is not able to exercise faith in God's promises is 
scarcely able to hide himself from those foes which sur- 
round him : his thoughts are not in achieving victory — his 
state is not fit for fighting the good fight of faith — he is 
altogether occupied in resisting those temptations to which 
his unbelief is daily exposing him. — Baptist Noel. 

Believers are citizens of this world, placed here by God 
to be active in their different spheres ; and there is a, 
real a difference between a man who exercises strong faith, 
and he who is but weak, as there is between that poor mar 
who is anxious under the apprehension of an approaching 
bankruptcy, and the liberal benefactor of a province. Foi 
the one, he whose faith is weak, is occupied continually 
with his own evils, with his own unhappiness ; he is con- 
stantly perceiving his deficiencies, but grievously failing 
continually in duty ; feeling a thousand anxieties and 
alarms ; there is a continual restlessness of spirit : whereas 
he who exercises strong faith, is ready to diffuse far and 
wide the blessings he himself enjoys ; he becomes a bless- 



186 



FAITH 



ing to others ; the promise is dear to him, and heaven 
seeming within his reach, his own interest secure, that 
man is able, and that man does, in fact, lay himself out for 
the good of others ; whereas the other is always shrinking 
within those evils by which he is so beset and harassed. — 
Ibid. 

Christians are placed in this world in an inclement at- 
mosphere ; and there is as real a difference between him 
who exercises strong faith, and he who is a weak and 
partial believer, as there is between the hardy and daring 
mountaineer when he carols in the mountain air, and 
the poor consumptive sufferer who shivers in the summer 
breeze. The one is able to shrink from no temptation, 
he is so languid ; he feels that his soul is sick, he feels that 
he has nothing of the vigour and thriving of a well- 
ordered soul ; whereas the other, who exercises strong 
faith, is growing more and more powerful, experiencing the 
promise of God : " They that wait upon the Lord shall 
renew their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as 
eagles ; they shall run, and not be weary ; and they shall 
walk, and not faint." — Ibid. 

There is a grievous error in inquiring whether we have 
faith, instead of seeking " the obedience of faith." A child 
called to receive an apple is at no loss to proceed. Yet 
the grounds on which he acts are not more obvious and 
apprehensible than are the doctrines of the Gospel, in 
which we are called to go forth to that heaven which 
stands with an open gate, and a waving flag of invitation 
in the perspective before us. The child is exclusively led 
on by its regard to the object. Still there is another 
process going on in the recesses of its little bosom, though 
unconsciously. But it would be quite preposterous to re- 
quire the child to be quite sure that it had faith in the 
promise, before it does the plain thing that it is bidden. 
And it is childish folly to be inquiring whether we have 
faith, when we should be exclusively directing our attention 
to the object of promise, and going forwards at the voice of 
invitation. — Dr. Chalmers. 

Men may exhort you to the means of faith, but this 



FAITH. 



187 



you will find, that all those things are as difficult as faith 
itself: and therefore the apostle, (Rom. x.,) you see, directs 
you unto faith, as the most easy and short cut of all the 
rest ; you may forecast, saith he, this and that, " But the 
word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thine heart, 
that is, that word of faith which we preach." — ver. 8. The 
apostle speaks first thus, as if one should be brought to 
a table full of meats, and he that is brought should say, 
" What is it I should do that I might eat of this meat, and 
be partaker of it?" Certainly any one would answer, 
" The meat is here on the table, do thou fall to eating :" so 
doth the apostle say, the word is nigh thee ; it is next door 
to thy mouth, and to thy heart, and thy lips ; do but 
digest it, (which is the mingling it with faith, as he speaks, 
Heb. iv.,) do jbut take it in thy thoughts and apprehension, 
and then it is in thine heart ; thou standest now at the 
threshold, do but step in ; enter in, saith he : but will the 
man say, I must have a stomach to it? Mark what I say — 
If eating and tasting will be the way to get a stomach, 
were it not best to fall to ? So it is written, " Taste and 
see how good the Lord is." If there were meat that would 
get a man a stomach by eating it, assuredly then a man would 
first fall to eat : now this meat, which is Christ Jesus, doth 
do so. If coming into the sun would give eyes to a man, 
and cause the film to fall off as well as give a man light to 
see himself with, a man that is blind would not stand com- 
plaining of his blindness, and say, I will not go abroad, for 
I cannot see this sun, I will rather stay here in this dark 
dungeon, in this prison, till the sun force itself through 
these walls, or come in at some cranny, and so cause the 
scales to fall off from my eyes. No, certainly, he would go 
abroad into the air, that so the sun might cure him of his 
blindness. Jesus Christ is "the Sun of Righteousness, and 
he hath healing in his wings ;" viz. in his beams. Mai. iv. 
2. It is an elegant metaphor, comparing these diffusive 
beams to the spreading of the eagle's wings over her young- 
ones. How doth the iron have virtue to cleave to the load- 
stone ? It is by being brought to the loadstone : so doth 
the soul get power to cleave unto Christ, by coming to 



188 



FAITH. 



Christ ; and the longer the soul is kept off from exercising 
faith upon Christ, it is like the iron when kept from the 
loadstone, grows weaker and weaker. 

Get an eye of faith to look through and above the crea- 
ture. A man will never get to look off from the 
world till he can look beyond it. St. Peter saith of 
wicked men, that they are purblind, " they cannot see 
afar off:" they can see nothing but that which is next 
them ; and therefore no marvel if their thoughts cannot 
reach unto the end of the creature. And nature itself, me- 
thinks, may seem to have intended a lesson in the very 
order of the creatures. Downwards a man's eye hath 
something immediately to fix on ; all is shut up in dark- 
ness save the very surface, to note that we should have 
our desires shut up too from those earthly things which 
are put under our feet, and hid from our eyes, and buried 
in their own deformity. All the beauty, and all the fruit 
of the earth is placed on the very outside of it, to show 
how short and narrow our affections should be towards 
it. But upward the eye finds scarce anything to bound it : 
all is transparent and diaphanous, to note how vast our 
affections should be towards God ; how endless our thoughts 
and desires of his kingdom ; how present to our faith the 
heavenly things should be, even at a great distance. The 
apostle saith that " faith is the substance of things hoped 
for ;" that it gives being and present subsistency to things 
far distant from us ; makes those things which, in regard of 
natural causes, are very remote, in regard of God's pro- 
mises, to seem hard at hand. And ever, the greater mag- 
nitude and light there is in a body, the smaller will the 
medium or distance seem from it. The reason why a 
perspective glass draws remote objects close to the eye, is, 
because it multiplies the 'species.' We then, by faith 
apprehending an infinite and everlasting glory, must needs 
conceive anything through which we look upon it to be 
but short and vanishing. Labour, therefore, to get a dis- 
tinct view of the height, and length, and breadth, and 
depth of the unsearchable love of God in Christ ; to find 
in thine own soul the truth of God in his promises, and 



FAITH. 



189 



that " his word abideth for ever ;" and that will make all 
the glory of other things to seem but grass. 

In the gospel's history, we find that Christ had a three- 
fold entertainment amongst the sons of men ; some received 
him into house, not into heart, as Simon the Pharisee, who 
gave him no kiss, nor water to wash his feet ; some pro- 
fessedly into heart, but not into house, as the graceless 
swinish Gergesites ; some both into house and heart, as 
Lazarus, Mary, Martha. Thus let every good Christian do, 
endeavour that Christ may dwell in their hearts by faith, 
that their bodies may be fit temples of the Holy Spirit, 
that now in this life, whilst Christ stands at the door of 
their heart, knocking for admission, they may let him in. 
For if ever they expect to enter into the gates of the city 
of God hereafter, they must open their hearts, the gates of 
their own city, to him here in this world. — Spencer. 

Look how it is with two watermen, — the one hauls his boat 
about the shore, and cannot get off, but labours and pulls 
hard, yet never puts her forth to the tide ; the other, having 
more skill, puts off presently, sets up his sail, and then sits 
still committing himself to wind and tide, which easily 
carries him whither he is to go. Just thus it is with a 
faithful soul, and an unbeliever; all the care of one is 
to put himself upon the care of God's providence, to set up 
the sail of hope, to take the gale of God's mercy, and so he 
goes cheerfully. And why? because he is not moved by 
an external principle ; it is faith in Christ Jesus that urges 
him on, it is by faith that he hath got skill to put over all 
cares to another ; and though he takes up the cross, yet he 
casts all the cares upon Christ, and then it is an easy mat- 
ter to lie under the burden when another bears the weight. 
But the unfaithful, unbelieving soul, thinking by his own 
will and power to bring things about, labours and pulls 
hard, yet finds neither ease nor success, but sinks under the 
pressure of every carnal, worldly occurrence that betides 
him. — Ibid. 

Take a cup of wine, and if you would know whether it be 
good or not, drink it off; but if it warm you not at the heart, 
quicken you not, nor in any way revive your spirits, you 



190 



FAITH. 



shall say, It is naught, flat and dead ; had it been good wine, 
it would have done all this : then if you come to plants, and 
find no fruits, nor leaves, you say, this plant is dead ; if you 
take a dram of physic, and it do not work, you say, it is 
bad physic : and so if you take leaven and put it into dough, 
if it sour not the lump, you say it is dead leaven. Thus if 
a man find not faith in the operation thereof, that it works 
not a general change in the soul, that it fire not the heart 
with love to Christ, if there be no life in it, then let such a 
man know, that he is deceived, his faith is not right, not 
effectual, nor any way conducive to life eternal. — Ibid. 

Look but on a conduit that is full of water : now a man 
that would fill his vessel must bring it to the conduit, set 
it near the cock; but yet that is not enough; if that be all, 
and he do no more, he may go home again with an empty 
vessel ; and therefore he that would fill his vessel, when 
he hath brought it to the conduit, and set it under the cock, 
must also turn the cock, and then the water will run forth 
and fill the vessel. So Christ is the conduit of all grace 
and goodness, the fountain of living waters, he that would 
be spiritually filled must come to him ; his ordinances, the 
word and sacraments, are the cocks of this conduit. So 
that a man that would be filled, must not only go to Christ, 
but to Christ in his ordinances ; and that is not enough 
either, when he is come to them he must turn them. But 
how must that be done ? The well is deep, and I have not a 
bucket to draw; the cock is hard locked, and I cannot tell 
how to unlock it, saith the weak believing soul. What of all 
this? Thou hast faith, true faith, though a weak faith; 
now that faith, actuated and working upon the ordinances, 
turns the cock, and then the efficacies and virtues of Christ 
flow forth ; then it is that we are filled with the Holy Ghost 
that with joy we draw waters out of the wells of salvation. 
—Isaiah xii. 3. — Ibid. 

By faith we receive, we rest on the testimony of God 
You may see at a distance an elevated piece of ground, you 
may be unable to decide whether that elevation was occa- 
sioned, was created by artificial means, or by the hand of God ; 
but when you see the stupendous mountain rising from the 



FAITH. 



191 



vale, and exhilarating itself in dreadful sublimity, you are at 
no loss to determine how the mountain was formed, and who 
laid the foundation. You may see a light at a distance, you 
may be at a loss to determine whether the light is natural or 
artificial ; but you cannot look to the sun in the heavens 
and question whether that sun was created by God, or by 
man. Now when the heart is purified, when divine truth 
operates upon the heart, purifying it from the love of sin, 
and we cease to feel an interest in denying the truth of 
divine revelation, then we believe the word of God, we 
have not a doubt upon the subject. Its majesty and sub- 
limity commend it as the work of God ! The more pure the 
mind is, the greater is the certainty we have on this subject ; 
but an impure mind is directly opposed to the faith of the 
gospel; all is doubt and uncertainty when guilt is lodged 
upon the conscience. 

The difference between walking by faith and walking by 
sight is wonderful ! It is as great as that of our walking in 
a clear shining morning, when the sky in summer is without 
a cloud, while the sun sheds his enlivening beams ; or our 
going out in one of our November fogs, when the sky is 
overcast, and the heavy cloudy atmosphere looks gloom and 
sadness, and all nature is dreary and cheerless. 

The difference between common and true faith may be 
thus illustrated. Suppose two persons to have been in- 
formed that the government had pledged itself to bestow 
a grant of ten thousand acres of land at the Swan River to 
any who would settle there, subject to certain conditions as to 
capital and stock. The announcement is received by both 
parties, and believed. But the one is not moved to take 
any steps in consequence of it, the other hastens to fulfil the 
conditions, and actually goes out to take possession of the 
land. So the gospel report, and the blessings it is ready 
to bestow, are believed on, and their truth is not questioned 
by the nominal professor and the true believer ; but the 
one is not influenced to adopt measures, or comply with the 
terms it proposes, in order to secure its blessings ; but he 
who has the true faith takes effectual steps, and is careful to 
fulfil the conditions to obtain its blessings. 



192 



FAITH. 



Every individual lias full warranty to appropriate to him- 
self the overtures addressed to the world. Only let a person 
announce to a multitude that all who come to him should 
receive a benefit, or that " whosoever," or any, or " every 
one" of them that would repair to a certain place should 
receive a benefit. It is not difficult to divine what will be 
the first thing in this case, as the effect of any one having 
believed the announcement. He will betake himself to the 
appointed place, and his alacrity in going will be just in 
proportion to his confidence m the honesty of him who made 
the promise. This may be applied to the faith of the 
gospel ; " eternal life" is held out as " the gift of God through 
Jesus Christ," and the way is prescribed by which to reach 
it. Now when the earthly benefactor in our supposed case 
scattered abroad among the multitude the promise of a 
certain benefit on their repairing to the appointed place, he 
did not bid them wait till faith was obtained before they 
moved. He bade them move, and they by instantly doing 
so prove that faith existed. These did not seek to ascertain 
their faith before rendering obedience ; by their obedience 
they ascertained their faith. So there are calls to obedi- 
ence, and a man obeys them not by feeling inwardly for 
the faith, but by following outwardly the objects of faith. 
He must simply do what he is simply bid to do. A plain 
man is told what to hope for, and where to go for it, and 
without mysticism he hopes what he is told, and does what 
he is bid. — Dr. Chalmers. 

A Roman writ to Tully, to inform him in something con- 
cerning the immortality of the soul ; Tully writ back again 
unto him, " Read but Plato upon the same subject, and you 
will desire no more." The Roman returned him answer, 
" I have read it over again and again, but I know not whence 
it is, when I read it, I assent unto it, but I have no sooner 
laid the book out of my hand, but I begin to doubt again, 
whether the soul be immortal, yea or no." So it is with all 
persuasion from natural principles ; as to that extent of doc- 
trine it would persuade us of, the persuasion that ariseth 
from them is faint and very weak. It is true that nature 
hath principles to persuade the soul by, to some kind of 



FAITH. 



193 



assent, as that there is a God, and he must be worshipped. 
Look upon nie, (saith nature,) I have not a spire of grass but 
tells thee, there is a God ; see the variety, greatness, beauty 
of my work ; read a great God in the workmanship of the 
heavens ; a glorious God in a beauteous flower ; a wise God 
in my choice of works ; behold a God in the order thou hast 
seen in me ; see him in my law, written in my heart. From 
these and such like things, nature bequeaths a kind of faith 
to the soul, and learns it to believe that there is a God ; but 
this is far from faith in the point of true believing. — 
Spencer. 

The " one faith" of St. Paul is, as it were, the watchword 
of the church, by which we discern friends from foes. A 
watchword is a military phrase, and when sentinels are 
placed in their posts the word is given them. Should any 
one approach, he is challenged for the word ; and, if he 
have it not, he is accounted an enemy. Thus it is in 
the church militant, the profession of the true faith is the 
word by which the soldiers of Christ distinguish friends from 
foes : those who are professsedly on the Lord's side, from 
those who are against him. — Rev. Mr. Willian. 

True faith is of a working, stirring, lively nature. Fides 
pinguescit operibus, (saith Luther.) Faith is in some sort 
nourished by a holy life. As the flesh which clothes the 
frame of man's body, though it receive its heat from the 
vitals within, yet conduces to preserve the very life of those 
vitals ; (by a kindly reciprocation of influence ;) so works 
evangelically good, and actions truly gracious, though they 
have their life from faith, are yet powerful helps to main- 
tain the liveliness of faith. We sometimes see a child 
nursing the parent that bore him, and therein he performs 
but his duty. — Spencer. 

The principle which brings man fairly within the reach of 
religious influence, which gives eternal things their due 
weight in his practical estimation, which gives them the 
point and life of waking certainties, and actual existence, is 
faith. " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evi- 
dence of things not seen;" the confident expectation of the 
one; the clear, heartfelt, and realising conviction of the other. 

o 



194 



FAITH. 



Faith is to the truths of Scripture, what the sun is to the 
face of nature. A stranger who passes through a fine 
country by night, may be told, and place full confidence in 
the information, of all the beauties with which he is en- 
circled. But let the day arise, and open to his view smiling 
valleys and resplendent rivers, the cattle feeding in their 
pastures, light and shade scattered upon the hills, woods and 
villages, and glittering spires ; then he does not merely hear 
from others — he knows, and sees, and feels for himself, the 
paradise which lies around him. So it is with the truths of 
Scripture. The man who has not faith may, in a certain 
sense, see and hear, and give them his assent. But still 
" the veil" is upon his mind. There is a secret virtue in 
the scripture — a life and spirit in God's word, which he does 
not comprehend. For this, its spiritual meaning, he has 
eyes that see not, ears that hear not, and a heart that will 
not understand. But let faith once cast the beam out of his 
eye ; let the day-star from above arise ; let him who caused 
the light to shine out of darkness, shine in his heart : and 
those truths which fell like blunted arrows from his soul, 
are now " quick and powerful, and sharper than any two- 
edged sword." They are not new truths ; but they are seen 
by him with new eyes. They brighten into new light, and 
seem, as if by enchantment, transfigured into new existence. 
He believed before, like one asleep, that there is a God. 
But now the blessed truth bursts, like new day, upon his 
soul ; and seems to fill all nature round him, and all his soul 
within him, with an all-sustaining, all-cheering, ever-present 
God! 

As a dim dazzling eye, that looked on the brazen serpent 
in the wilderness, was of more avail to a poor Israelite 
(then stung with a fiery serpent) than any use that could 
possibly be made of all his other members; little could the 
swiftness of his feet, strength of body, nimbleness of his 
hands, volubility of tongue, quickness of the ear, or anything 
else have prevailed, had there not been an eye to have 
looked on it : so without faith we lie " dead in trespasses 
and sins," and cannot but perish of the mortal stings which 
Satan hath blistered us withal ; so that had we perfect re- 



FAITH. 



195 



pentance, sound knowledge, and sincere love, not one of 
them, nor all of them together, could possibly cure us, if 
there were not faith to apprehend Christ for our satisfaction, 
and a propitiation for all our sins. It is only faith in Christ, 
a true faith, (though a weak dim-sighted faith,) that looking 
up to the typified serpent Christ Jesus, can cure our wounded, 
sin-sick souls, and make us here to live unto God, and here- 
after in all happiness with him. — Spencer. 

A very tender parent had a son who from his earliest 
years proved headstrong and dissolute. Conscious of the 
extent of his demerits, he dreaded and hated his parent. 
Meanwhile every means were used to disarm him of these 
suspicions, so unworthy of the tenderness and love which 
yearned in his father's bosom, and of all the kindness and 
forbearance which were lavished upon him. Eventually 
the means appeared to be successful, and confidence, in a 
great degree, took place of his ungenerous suspicions. En- 
tertained in the family as one who had never trespassed, he 
now left his home to embark in mercantile affairs, and was 
assured that if in any extremity he would apply to his 
parent, he should find his application kindly received. In 
the course of years it fell out that he was reduced to ex- 
tremity ; but instead of communicating his case to his 
parent, his base suspicion and disbelief of his tenderness and 
care again occupied him, and he neglected to apply to him. 
Who can tell how deeply that father's heart was rent at 
such depravity of feeling ! Yet this is the case of the be- 
liever, who, pardoned and accepted and made partaker of a 
Father's love and covenant promises, when under distress 
refuses to trust his heavenly and almighty Parent, throws 
away his filial confidence, and with his old suspicions stands 
aloof in sullen distrust. O how is God dishonoured by this 
sinful unbelief ! 

" Faith is the evidence of things not seen." It represents 
things future and distant as present and in our actual pos- 
session. A superficial fluctuating belief of the good or evil 
things in the next state is of no force to make us conquerors 
All fire has heat, but every fire is not strong enough to melt 
down gold and silver. 'Tis a firm belief of the heavenly 

o 2 



196 



FAITH. 



inheritance, and our sure right in heavenly things, which 
will cause all the false colours of this world, the shadows in 
masquerade, to disappear. The evidence and importance of 
things fixes our resolutions to adhere to them. The son of 
a king, and the heir of a kingdom, will invincibly assent to 
the truth of his relation and title. But one who sets up a 
doubtful title to a crown will have a wavering hope, and be 
encumbered with the fears of uncertainty. So a sincere be- 
liever of the heavenly glory, and his eternal spirit in it, will live 
joyfully in that faith, and die for it if necessity require ; while 
he who gives but a weak assent to future things, will follow 
on but feebly to know the Lord, and push forward his spi- 
ritual victories. 

It is said of Eutychus that, falling down out of a window, 
was taken up dead, his friends were much troubled at the 
suddenness of the accident ; but St. Paul being then preach- 
ing in an upper chamber, went down and fell upon him, and 
embracing him, said, Trouble not yourselves, for his life is in 
him. Though he seemed dead, yet he was alive; and as 
substance may be said to be in an elm or an oak tree when 
they have cast their leaves, and there is wine to be found in 
an unlikely cluster, and one saith, destroy it not, for there is 
a blessing in it — such are the beatings of the pulse, the 
trances and the swoonings of faith, beating many times so 
slowly, and drawing the breath of life so inwardly to itself, 
that no man can perceive any life at all ; so that unless the 
goodness of God should embrace it as St. Paul did Eu- 
tychus, it would never recover strength again. Such was 
the trance of adultery in David, of idolatry in his son 
Solomon, of apostasy in Peter, of recusancy in Jonah, &c. — 
Spencer. 

How diligent are many Christians in the use of all the 
ordinances, and yet the natural and promised results do not 
follow ! This is from unbelief. If a man who is fond of im- 
provement should carry a capricious taste with him into all 
his plans in his edifices, he would build up and pull down, 
and change squares for oblongs and circles. In his grounds 
he would plant and root up ; in his garden he would sow 
seeds, and, before they could grow, would destroy the 



FAITH. 



197 



rising- vegetation, to substitute some other crop in its place. 
Thus unceasing work and bustle would be going on ; but 
where there was so little suffered to be permanent, there 
would be little improvement. Such is the unprofitable work 
in which many are engaged in spiritual things : none can 
deny their diligence in labouring " to build themselves up 
in their most holy faith." True, they plead the promises 
and build up much by prayer — but unbelief steps in, and 
pulls nearly all down ; just like one who builds up a wall, 
and then demolishes it. True, indeed, they sow much seed, 
and while it is now springing, unbelief comes like a killing- 
frost and cuts it down. While this counter work goes on, 
nothing can prosper. — Ibid. 

An unbelieving heart may have some flash of spirit and 
resolution, but it wants free mettle, and will be sure to jade 
in a long journey. Faith will throw in the net of prayer 
again and again, as long as God commands, and the 
promise encourageth. The greyhound hunts by sight ; 
when he cannot see his game he gives over running : but 
the true hound by scent, he hunts over hedge and ditch ; 
though he sees not the hare, he pursues all the day long. 
Thus an unbelieving heart may be drawn out upon some 
visible probabilities and sensible hopes of a coming mercy 
to pray and exercise a little faith, but when these are out 
of sight, his heart fails him ; but faith keeps the scent of the 
promise, and gives not over the chase. 

There are doubtless beings in the creation capable of 
explaining, perceiving, and distinguishing the properties 
and essence of the different particles of matter by which we are 
surrounded, and of which, with all the aid of chemistry, and the 
most advanced philosophy, we know but little. A blind man, 
who had never enjoyed the opportunity of beholding the 
sun, might discover, by a nice comparison of the changing 
temperature of the air, that during certain hours of the day 
there passed over our earth some great source of heat. The 
addition of one new sense to us who have already the inesti- 
mable advantages which vision affords, might probably in a 
few hours communicate more instructions, with respect to 
matter, than all which is ever to repay and consummate the 



198 



FAMILY. 



physical labours of mankind ; giving perhaps to a single 
glance those slow revelations of nature which one by one, at 
intervals of many centuries, are to be eventually discovered. 
Such is the power of faith. It becomes to us like the be- 
stower of another additional sense ; it does not leave us to 
grope our way in darkness, but lays bare at once to our 
observation a thousand truths which the most piercing reason 
would never have discovered, and discloses others, as at a 
glance, which are but feebly explored after the labour of 
years. 



St. Augustine, writing to the clergy and townsmen of 
Hippo, saith, " Although the discipline and government of 
my house be strict and vigilant, yet as I am a man and live 
amongst men, I dare not arrogate to myself that my house 
shall be better than the ark of Noah, the house of Abraham, 
Isaac, Jacob, and of Christ. Thus may it be also with many 
a good man ; yea, there have been no worse men in the 
world, than they who have had the best means of grace in 
christian families ; as in Adam's there was a murdering 
Cain ; in Abraham's, a persecuting Ishmael ; in Noah's; a 
scoffing Ham ; in Isaac's, a profane Esau ; in David's, an 
undutiful Absalom ; in Mephibosheth's, a faithless Ziba ; in 
Elisha's, a lying Gehazi ; and in the college of Christ, a 
treacherous Judas : and no wonder, for religion is not here- 
ditary, yea, religion is the work of God, and he hath other 
ends in means of reformation than conversion, as may be 
seen in Pharaoh and in Eli's sons. — Spencer. 

The religious man may be considered in his family as the 
keystone to the arch of a building, which binds and holds 
all the parts of the edifice together. If this keystone be 
removed, the fabric will tumble to the ground, and all the 
parts be separated from each other. Or he is to his family 



FORMALITY. 



199 



as the good shepherd under whose protection and care the 
flock may go in and out and find pasture ; but when the 
shepherd is smitten, the sheep will be scattered. 

The piety of the religious man will survive in the various 
branches of his family. In the death of Abraham, the aged 
parent and saint, the precious grain fell fully ripe to the 
earth, but it was not lost ; it quickened and sprang up again 
in many a fair and vigorous plant, to adorn and enrich the 
land. The blessing of Abraham was renewed in Isaac, 
increased in Jacob, multiplied in the patriarchs, and enlarged 
abundantly in their offspring, till at last they filled the whole 
of the promised land. It is like the sowing of good seed, 
bringing forth a hundred-fold. 



JPormalttg. 

Rhennus reporteth, that he saw in Mentz, in Germany, 
two cranes standing, in silver, upon the altar, into the 
bellies whereof the priests, by a device, put fire and frank- 
incense so artificially, that all the fire and smoke came out 
of the cranes' beaks. A perfect emblem of the public 
worship of a dead and formal people ; the minister puts a 
little fire into them, they have little warmth of themselves, 
or sense of true zeal ; and as those cranes sent out sweet 
perfumes at their beaks, having no smell at all thereof in 
themselves ; so they breathe out the sweet incense of prayer 
and zealous devotion, whereof they have no sense or spiritual 
understanding at all. — Spencer. 

Let us conceive the Almighty looking down from his 
throne upon a multitude of formalists assembled together to 
worship him avowedly, but not " in spirit and in truth." 
And what does he behold? As in religion the heart is 
everything, so when he perceives the heart is absent from 
the service which is offered up, the man is absent from 
his presence. The Omniscient beholds in the place of a 
sincere offering a piece of solemn formality going through 



200 



FORGIVENESS. 



the attitudes and signs of devotion, and even uttering the 
affected language of confession, supplication, and praise, 
but entirely devoid of any corresponding emotions within. 
He beholds in the rites of such a worship — in means con- 
verted into ends — in forms erected into objects of trust — an 
array of spiritual idols — -substituted in his place, and as 
effectually supplanting him, and robbing him of the homage 
due unto his name, as if so many crucifixes and carved 
images were brought out in the midst of the assembly for 
them to bow down to, and to worship. The idols of the 
heathen stand between heaven and earth obscuring the 
vision of God, intercepting and appropriating the mounting 
incense which should have ascended to the eternal throne. 
The rites of the formalist are his spiritual idols ; instead of 
leading his thoughts onwards to God, they stand between 
him and the professed object of his worship, concealing God 
from his view, engrossing his soul to themselves, and leaving 
behind them a feeling of satisfaction, simply because they had 
been revered and observed. — Harris. 



Jforgtbeness. 

There is mention made of two famous philosophers falling 
at variance, Aristippus and iEschines. Aristippus comes to 
iEschines, " Shall we be friends ?" " Yes, with all my 
heart," says iEschines. " Remember," saith Aristippus, 
" that though I am your elder, yet I sought for peace." 
" True," says iEschines, " and for this I will always acknow- 
ledge you to be the most worthy man ; for I began the strife, 
and you the peace." This was & pagan glass, but may very 
well serve a great many fiery spirited Christians to see their 
blemishes in. How usual is it for a man to say, I will be 
revenged upon such a one, he hath done me wrong, I will 
be even with him ; and so he may too. But I'll show him 
a way how he may be above him. How's that ? Forgive 



GOD. 



201 



him ; for by yielding, pardoning, putting up the wrong, he 
shows power over his passions, over himself, and that's a 
far greater thing than to have power over another. — 
Spencer. 

God withholds often a sense of pardon for wholesome 
purposes ; slender cuts are soon healed up, but deep and 
dangerous wounds require a longer cure. And in some 
cases scarifying and lancing, yea, opening of a vein to 
bleed a while, are most approved of to make an effectual 
cure. 

It was wont to be said of Archbishop Cranmer, if you 
would be sure to have Cranmer do you a good turn, you 
must do him some ill one ; for, though he loved to do good 
to all, yet especially he would watch for opportunity to do 
good to such as had wronged him. O that there were but 
a few such leading men of such sweet spirits amongst us, 
how great a blessing of peace might we enjoy ! Did we but 
rejoice in any opportunity of doing good offices of love to 
those who have wronged us, things would be in a better 
posture than they are. — Spencer. 



Isaiah, after he had seen the glory of the Lord filling the 
temple, professed himself willing to go anywhere, and with 
whatever message the Lord of the temple might commission 
him to bear. And it is recorded of an eminently holy 
minister, who lived in the days of persecution, that when 
an officer of justice, or rather of injustice, came to arrest 
him at the time when he was about to commence his public 
worship, he besought that the arrest might be suspended 
till he had finished the sermon, and then with dignified 
composure exclaimed, " Now, sir, I am ready." He had 
seen " the power and glory of God in the sanctuary," and 
was ready to go to the endurance of imprisonment, and even 



202 



GOD. 



of death itself. What is there that the believer, thus situated 
and thus impressed, is not prepared to encounter, whether 
in the way of affliction, or in the way of duty ? It is when 
he has looked to his God ; it is when a ray of the divine 
glory has fallen upon his mind, and a beam of divine love 
has warmed his heart, it is then that, like the great apostle 
of the gentiles, he can look around with christian com- 
posure and triumph upon the troubled scene before him, 
and say, " None of these things move me," &c. 

It is related of Lord Nelson, that at a critical moment a 
sudden glow of patriotism was kindled within him, and that 
from that time a radiant orb was suspended in his mind's 
eye which urged him onwards to renown. But what is 
this in comparison with the object which fills the eye of the 
believer's soul, when by faith he beholds the Saviour as the 
glory of the Lord, and follows on like the Israelites in the 
path of the fiery cloudy pillar ? 

If all the stars were to turn back in their courses, if the 
sun and moon were to suspend their race, how great would 
be the disorder and confusion which would come ! Now this 
would not equal the dismay which would ensue in the world 
of spirits if all the stars which Jesus holds in his hand, if 
all the saints should pause and cease to run their daily course 
of giving glory to him in whose eyes the sun and stars are 
but a little thing. 

When I find any bodily parts appropriated to the divine 
nature, I then see God graciously condescends to the weak- 
ness of my frail and infirm nature ; and bless his holy 
name that he vouchsafes to reveal himself, not as he is, but as 
I am. His eye is his wisdom — his right hand, his power — 
his sitting, his immutability — his standing, his fortitude — 
his anger, his justice in punishing — his repentance, his 
mercy in pardoning — his hatred of sin, his holiness — his 
grieving for sinners, his loving-kindness — his long-suffering, 
his goodness. 

" My people have committed two evils ; they have for- 
saken me, the fountain of living waters, and have hewn out 
to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns which can hold no 
water." Well, then, saith the Lord, so long as they have 



GOD. 



203 



rested on me, they rested upon a sure supply ; all his mercies 
are " sure mercies ;") upon a fountain which would never fail 
them : but when once they forsake me, and will not trust 
their lives in my keeping, but, with the prodigal, will have 
their portion in their own hands, their water in their own 
cisterns, their pits prove but to them like Job's torrent ; deep 
and plentiful though they seem for a time, yet at length they 
make those ashamed that relied upon them. There are two 
excellent things intimated in those two words of cisterns and 
broken cisterns : first, the wealth and honour which men get 
not from the Lord, but by carnal dependences, are but 
cisterns at the best, and in that respect they have an evil 
quality in them ; they are like dead waters, apt to putrefy 
and corrupt ; being cut off from the influence of God, the 
fountain of life, they have no savour nor sweetness in them. 
Besides, they are broken cisterns too ; as they have much mud 
and rottenness in them, so are they full of chinks, at which 
whatever is clear and sweet runs away, and nothing but 
dregs remain behind. The worldly pleasures which men 
enjoy ; their youthful vigours that carried them with delight 
and fury to the pursuit of fleshly lusts ; the content which 
they were wont to take in good fellowship — a storm of sick- 
ness, or at farthest a winter of age, blows all away ; and 
when the fruit is gone, there remains nothing but the 
diseases of it behind, which their surfeit had begotten, a 
conscience-worm to torment the soul. Thus the life which 
we fetch from the cistern is a vanishing life ; there is still, 
after the use of it, less left behind than there was before ; 
but the life which we fetch from the fountain, is a fixed, an 
abiding life, as St. John speaks, or as our Saviour calls it, " a 
life that abounds ;" like the pumping of water out of a foun- 
tain, — the more it is drawn, the faster it comes. 

God is called a rock, to teach us, that, as this continues 
stedfast and immovable, while the whole surrounding ocean 
is in a state of perpetual fluctuation ; so, though all the 
creatures of God, from the lowest to the very highest of the 
intelligent kind, are subject to change, capable of new 
additions, with respect to their knowledge, their power, or 



204 



GOD. 



their blessedness ; God alone is absolutely the same, yester- 
day, to-day, and for ever ! 

In explanation of the command to glorify God — it may 
seem strange and presumptuous, to speak of such poor, sin- 
ful, worthless beings as we are, as glorifying, or as capable 
of glorifying God. But the perfect Christian may be com- 
pared to a perfect mirror, which, though dark and opaque of 
itself, being placed before the sun reflects his whole image, 
and may be said to increase his glory by increasing and scat- 
tering his light. In this view, we may regard heaven, where 
God is perfectly glorified in his saints, as the firmament, 
studded with ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands 
of thousands of mirrors, every one of them reflecting a per- 
fect image of God, the sun in the centre, and filling the 
universe with the blaze of his glory. 

God will not only be admired by his saints in glory for his 
love in their salvation, but for his wisdom in the way to it. 
The love of God in saving them will be the sweet draught 
at the marriage feast ; and the rare wisdom of God in effect- 
ing this, as the curious workmanship with which the cup 
shall be enamelled. — The Portfolio. 

Look at the sun, how it casts light and heat upon all the 
world in its general course : how it shineth upon the good 
and the bad with an equal influence ; but let its beams be 
but concentered in a burning-glass, then it sets fire to the 
object only, and passeth by all others. Thus God in the 
creation looketh upon all his works with a general love, they 
pleased him very much. 0 ! but when he is pleased to cast 
the beams of his love, and cause them to shine upon his 
elect in Christ, then it is that their affections are in- 
flamed ; whereas others are but as it were a little warmed, 
have a little shining of common grace cast upon them. — 
Spencer. 

Trees, if the roots run too deep into the earth, must be cut 
shorter ; if the branches spread too far, they must be 
lopped ; and if canker or caterpillar once infest, and cleave 
to them, then they must be blazed and smoked. Thus, the 
children of God, when they be too much rooted by their 



GOD. 



205 



affections in the things of this world, and with great and 
large boughs of their ability, wrong and impoverish their 
poor neighbour, or let their money like the canker eat into 
their souls — God will give them many a cutting, lopping, and 
fumigating ; and as they cannot but naturally do the one, so 
God, intending to heal them spiritually, will do the other ; 
his care will be still for them, notwithstanding their several 
failings. — Spencer. 

Let Jacob but hear that Joseph his son is yet alive, he 
hath enough. If the king come home with freedom, honour, 
and safety, Ziba may keep the land, let him take all, Mephi- 
bosheth is satisfied. Could but the son of Hamor match 
with Dina, his circumcision shall be endured, and though 
the daughters of the country be denied him, yet shall he be 
well contented. Give but children, and Rachel will not die ; 
and let Simeon see his Saviour, and he will die in peace. 
Thus let God's children enjoy but him, the subject of their 
affections, bid life, bid death, come what can come, what- 
ever befals them, they are contented. He is the object of 
their supreme love ; and he it is, in whom their souls prin- 
cipally delight ; wherefore in the enjoyment of him they 
have all they would have. — Ibid. 

When God said to Paul that all the souls with him 
should be safe, there were divers means used ; all were not able 
to swim to the shore, and the ship was not able to bring them 
all to the shore, but yet by broken boards, and by one means or 
other, all got to the shore. So the Lord brings things to pass 
in a strange manner, sometimes by one way, sometimes by 
another ; if one way do not hold, another shall ; he breaks in 
pieces many times the ship that we think should bring us to 
the shore, but then he casts us on such planks as we little 
thought on, opens a door for our deliverance that we little 
dreamt of. 

As Joseph, when he spoke roughly to his brethren, and 
made them believe he would take them for spies, still his 
heart was toward them, and he was as full of love as ever he 
could hold; he was fain to go aside and weep. And as 
Moses' mother, when she put her child into the ark of bul- 
rushes and went a little way from it, yet still her eye was 
towards it, the babe wept, and the mother wept too ; so God 



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when he goes aside as if he had forsaken his children, yet 
he is full of sympathy and love towards them ; it is one thing 
for God to desert, another thing to disinherit : how shall I 
give thee up, O Ephraim? — Hos. xi. 8. This is a metaphor 
of a father going about to disinherit his son, and while he 
is going to set his hand to the deed, his bowels begin to 
melt and yearn over him ; though he be a prodigal child, 
yet he is a child. I will not cut off the entail. God's heart 
may be full of love when there is a vail upon his face ; the 
Lord may change his dispensation towards his children, but 
not his disposition. So the believer may confidently say, I 
am adopted, and let God do what he will with me ; let him 
take the rod or the staff, so long as he loves me I will not 
complain. 

Take a straight stick, and put it into the water, then it will 
seem crooked, — why? because we look at it through two me- 
diums, air and water ; there lies the deception, thence it is 
that we cannot discern aright. Thus the proceedings of 
God, in his justice, which in themselves are straight without 
the least obliquity, seem unto us crooked : that wicked men 
should prosper, and good men be afflicted ; that the Israel- 
ites should make the bricks, and Egyptians dwell in the 
houses ; that servants should ride on horseback, and princes 
go on foot ; these are things that make the best Christians 
stagger in their judgment. And why, but because they look 
upon God's proceedings through a double medium of flesh 
and spirit, that so all things seem to go cross, though indeed 
they go right enough ; and hence it is that God's proceed- 
ings in his justice are not so well discerned, the eyes of man 
alone being not competent judges thereof. — Spencer. 

The attraction of gravity is proportioned to the quantity 
of matter which bodies contain ; now as the earth consists of 
a much greater quantity of matter than any body on its 
surface, the force of its attraction must necessarily be 
greater, and must draw everything towards it. So our 
souls need only be subjected to, and brought within, 
the influence of the attractions of God, to be drawn to 
him in preference to any of the creatures around us. His 
majesty and greatness is more than that of all the crea- 
tures ; his wisdom is greater than all created intelligences ; 



GOD. 



207 



his power is greater than all ; his goodness and his love ex- 
ceeds all the sum of love which we have ever witnessed or 
conceived. When brought within the united influence of 
these all-powerful attractions, the feeble influence of the 
creature is lost and overcome ; and, as under the attraction of 
gravity, the heart is irresistibly drawn to God. 

The character of God is but little seen but from Reve- 
lation. Redemption, that is the glass which reflects its 
true beauty. Look at the light of day ; it presents one 
uniform, and undistinguished, and unbroken mass of light. 
The many beautiful rays and colours which united together 
to form that light are lost and hid from our eyes. It is 
science only that has discovered to us this fact. But when 
we take the prism, and cause this apparently simple and 
uncompounded light to pass through its sides, we are 
charmed with the beauty of its rays, the richness and 
variety of its colours. So when we turn away from the 
glass which redemption holds up, how many of the attri- 
butes of God are hid from us! That it is which (as the 
prism separates and untwists the rays of light) brings to 
light the hidden glories of the Godhead. There it is his 
justice and mercy, his holiness, and purity, and love, beam, 
and like rays of light pour their effulgence on our astonished 
sight ; and the Almighty shines forth in all the glory and 
beauty of these attributes now manifested and revealed to 
his creation. 

Conceive the case of one, who, after beholding with ad- 
miration and delight star after star pass the aperture of 
an ordinary telescope, should then be enabled to look with 
telescopic sight upon the whole expanded heavens. So it 
is with the believer, who, after many a sweet and hasty 
glimpse of divine love, has the Spirit sent to take more 
fully of " the things of Christ," and reveal unto his soul the 
glory of God in Christ. 

It is with the Christian as with some merchant's agent 
that keeps his master's cash ; he tells his master he has a 
great sum of his by him, and desires he would discharge 
him of it, and see how his accounts stand; but he can 
never find him at leisure. There is a great treasure of 



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mercy always in the Christian's hand ; and conscience is 
oft calling the Christian to take the account, and see what 
God has done for him, but seldom it is that he can find 
time to tell his mercies over. And is it any wonder that 
such should go behind in their spiritual estate, who take no 
more notice what the gracious dealings of God are with 
them ? How can he be thankful who seldom thinks of 
what he receives ? or patient when God afflicts, that wants 
one of the most powerful arguments to pacify a mutinous 
spirit in trouble ; and that is taken from the abundant good 
we receive from the Lord and the little evil 1 How can 
such a soul flame with love to God, that is kept at such a 
distance from the mercies of God, which are fuel to it ? And 
the like may be said of all the other graces. 

In order to secure a machine (a clock) whose movements 
are sufficiently accurate to measure time, there must be a 
moving power, that is, weights, and also the directing force, 
a pendulum. So that we may move without deviation in 
that precise orbit in which God would have us, two pro- 
perties are indispensable, right inclination and wise direc- 
tion. Right inclination, be it ever so decided, is but the 
pondus, the weights of the moral machine. In order to 
regular movement a pendulum must be added ; and what 
is this but a judgment enlightened by the Spirit to know 
the perfect will of God ? We must not only serve him in 
spirit, but in truth. Here we have exactly the weights, and 
the pendulum ; spirit, or right inclination, the former ; right 
or wise direction, the latter. 

If we had eyes adapted to the sight, we should see, on 
looking into the smallest seed, the future flower or shrub, 
or tree, enclosed in it. God will look into our feelings and 
motives as into seeds ; by those embryos of action he will 
infallibly determine what we are, and will show what we 
should have been, had there been scope and stage for their 
developement and maturity. Nothing will be made light of. 
The very dust of the balances shall be taken into account. 
It is in the moral world, as it is in the natural, where e^ery 
substance weighs something ; though we speak of impon- 
derable bodies, yet nature knows nothing of positive levity : 



GOD. 



209 



and were men possessed of the necessary scales, the requi- 
site instrument, we should find the same holds true in the 
moral world. Nothing is insignificant on which sin has 
breathed the breath of hell : everything is important in 
which holiness has impressed itself in the faintest characters. 
And accordingly " there is nothing covered that shall not be 
revealed ; and hid that shall not be known." However 
unimportant now, in the estimation of man, yet, when placed 
in the light of the divine countenance, like the atom in the 
sun's rays, it shall be found deserving attention ; and as the 
minutest molecule of matter contains all the primordial 
elements of a world, so the least atom of that mind shall be 
found to include in it the essential elements of heaven. — 
Harris. 

The sunbeams, though unspeakably beneficent in their 
distributive capacity, yet, if collected to a point, would be 
ruinous in their operation. The power of God considered 
as exerted in, and for his believing people, becomes a gra- 
cious medium of their present and eternal felicity. But that 
same adorable attribute, when set in array against reprobate 
angels and men, burns as a fire which none can quench. 
■ ; Who knoweth the power of thy wrath?" And oh! how 
irresistibly will that power be made manifest, when " the 
Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, in flaming fire, 
taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that 
believe not the gospel." 

Not a single moon, or secondary orb, accompanies Mer- 
cury in his progress. He pursues his solitary journey with- 
out a servant, without a companion. Yet, nowise dis- 
couraged by this circumstance, he cheerfully speeds his 
rapid course, and rather flies than rolls round the vivifying 
centre of light and heat. The sun is to him instead of every 
other friend ; and more than supplies the absence of a thou- 
sand attendants. Providence may, perhaps, cast your lot, 
O Christian, in a place, or fix you in a family, where 
you may not find any with whom you can " take sweet 
counsel, and walk to the house of God as brethren." Be 
not, however, disheartened, neither dejectedly ask, " Who 
will show me any good ?" but make the psalmist's prayer 



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GOD. 



your own ; " Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance 
upon me !" If you experience continual nearness to God, 
through the Spirit, and are, as Mercury, in sole positus, irra- 
diated and warmed by direct communion with Christ, no 
matter whether you travel to heaven in company or alone. 
In the best sense of the word, you are sure of not being 
alone ; for all the persons in the Godhead, and angels who 
minister to the heirs of salvation, are your companions and 
guardians, your guides and familiar friends. 

Though the earth is crowded with proofs of the divine 
beneficence, yet the worldly man sees but a glimpse of it ; he 
is as one standing only upon the threshold of the temple 
which records God's goodness. But the true believer is one 
who has entered its sacred walls, and mingled with its wor- 
shippers. The great display, "the unspeakable gift," re- 
mains within. While its walls are filled with testimonies of 
goodness infinite, on the altar of sacrifice he sees inscribed, 
" God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
Son." Now he can exclaim, " Herein his love !" It is he 
that can say, " Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable 

gift.- 

The eye is qualified to receive delightful impressions 
from the objects of creation seen in reflected light. But 
there is a point at which the eye fails — the direct approach 
to the meridian sun. So it is with reason, the moral eye of 
man. It is qualified to examine the creation around us, and 
to draw arguments from observations on creatures ; but 
when it approaches God it fails, and must veil itself before 
the incomprehensible splendour of that bright luminary. 
When any process takes place upon the organs of the 
natural eye, enabling it to delight in a direct look at the 
sun, such process resembles true spiritual conversion, and 
then the individual is enabled to gaze on the eternal source 
of light and love, even God himself. 

God is said to harden the heart when he withholds re- 
straining grace — to harden when he does not soften. He is 
said to make blind when he does not enlighten, as freezing 
and darkness follow upon the absence of the sun, the source 
of light and heat. 



GOD. 



211 



None can seek God acceptably but when he takes Christ 
with him. As the history has recorded of Themistocles, 
when he sought the favour of the king, he snatched up the 
king's son, and so came and mediated for his grace and 
favour ; so, let us take the Son of God in the arms of our 
faith, and present him to God the Father, and seek his face, 
his strength. 

Man is the God of the dog. He knows no other, he can 
understand no other ; and see how he worships him ! 
With what reverence he crouches at his feet, with what 
love he fawns on him, with what dependence he looks up to 
him, and with cheerful alacrity obeys him! His whole soul 
is wrapped up in his God ; all the powers and faculties of 
his nature are devoted to his service ; and these powers and 
faculties are ennobled by the intercourse, and are made such 
as, without the confidence of a better nature than his own, 
he could never attain. So would it be with man, did he thus 
adore, reverence, and look up to his God. Thus resting, 
and assuring himself upon the divine protection and favour, 
he gathers a force and faith which human nature in itself 
could not obtain. Thus adoring him, and absorbed in his 
will, his nature exalts itself above its human frailty. It 
ought to be so with the Christian, but the dog puts the 
Christian to shame. 

It is related in Roman history, when the people of Col- 
latia stipulated about their surrender to the authority and 
protection of Rome, the question asked was, " Do you 
deliver up yourselves, the Collatine people, your city, your 
fields, your water, your bounds, your temples, your utensils, 
all things that are yours, both human and divine, into the 
hands of the people of Rome ?" And on their replying, 
" We deliver up all," they were received. The voluntary 
surrender which you, Christian, have made to Christ, is 
equally comprehensive ; it embraces all you are, and have, 
and hope for. 

Moral uprightness falls short of the chief end, indispen- 
sable to make a person upright indeed. This is the glory of 
God — 1 Cor. x. 31 — "Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory 

p2 



212 



GOD. 



of God." The archer may lose his game as well by shooting 
short as shooting wide. The gross hypocrite shoots wide, 
the upright moralist shoots short. He may, and oft doth, 
take his aim right, as to the immediate and particular end 
of his action, but ever fails in regard of the ultimate end. 
Thus a servant may be faithful to his master, scorn to wrong 
him of a farthing, yea, cordially seek his master's profit, 
and yet God be never looked at, nor thought of in all this : 
so all is worth nothing, because God is left out, who is 
principally to be regarded. Eph. vi. 7. Servants are com- 
manded to do their service as to God, not to man ; that is, 
not only, not chiefly, to man. 

" Thy commandments are exceeding broad." Great ships 
cannot sail in narrow rivers and shallow waters ; neither 
can minds, truly great with the knowledge of God and 
heaven, find room in the creature to turn and expatiate 
themselves in. A gracious soul is soon aground, and at 
a stand when irpon these flats ; but let it launch out 
into the meditation of God, his word, the mysterious truths 
of the gospel— and he finds a place of broad waters, sea room 
enough to lose himself in. 

An artist delights in his own work, and would not leave 
one single flaw or defect in it designedly. Phil. i. 6. O then 
look upon me, thou wise Creator. Knowing thou canst do 
not less than a human artist, remove these impediments 
which discredit thy work. Thou canst bring out of dark- 
ness light, and I believe thy work shall be finished at last, 
and glorify the name of its maker. 1 Pet. v. 10. 

God, as revealed in the economy of redemption, was the 
grand centre of all the feelings, principles, and exercises of 
Baxter. It was to him at once an attractive as well as a 
repelling power ; drawing him to holiness and happiness ; 
and repelling everything that was mean and unworthy 
from his character, as well as what was more directly 
evil. 

The attraction of bodies diminishes with their distance 
from each other ; so while we continue in our unrege- 
nerate state " afar off" from God, there will be no attrac- 



GOD. 



213 



tion of the heart to God ; it is only when we are made 
" nigh in Christ " that, the distance being removed, we are 
capable of feeling his attracting love. 

Land-floods make a great noise, swell high, but are suddenly 
in again, whereas the spring or well-head continueth full 
without augmentation or diminution. Such are the things 
of the world, such are all creature helps ; how do they 
flourish for a while ! but are soon gone. But God is the 
well-head never to be drawn dry, the eternal spring that 
feeds all other streams ; in him, and in him only, are the 
rivers of pleasure for evermore. — Spencer. 

The scribe is more properly said to write than the pen ; 
and he that niaketh and keepeth the clock is more properly 
said to make it go and strike, than the wheels and pegs that 
hang upon it ; and every workman to effect his work, rather 
than the tools which he useth as his instruments. So the 
Lord, who is the chief agent and mover in all actions, may 
more fitly and properly be said to effect and bring to pass 
all things which are done in the earth, than any inferior or 
subordinate causes, as meat to nourish us, clothes to keep 
us warm, the sun to lighten us, friends to provide for us, &c, 
seeing they are all but his tools and instruments, but as 
they are ruled and guided by the power and providence of 
so heavenly a workman. — Ibid. 

The case of Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, is 
famous, She grieved that her son was spotted with the 
heresy of the Manichees, and she prayed and prayed still ; 
yet he, as himself confesseth, continued for nine years 
together so infected. It fell out afterwards, that he would 
needs go and travel out of Africa into Italy ; his mother 
being loath to part with him, being the staff of her age, 
earnestly prayed that God would hinder him of that pur- 
pose. St. Augustine went, and coming with itching ears, 
got his heart touched, and religion into boot, with the 
eloquence of St. Ambrose at Milan ; whereupon not long 
after he broke out into this confession, " Thou, O God, 
deep in counsel, and hearing the substance of my mother's 
desires, didst not regard what she then asked, that in me 
thou mightest do that which she ever asked." Thus the 



214 



GOD. 



Almighty dealeth with other of his servants, working all 
things for the best ; but it is at such times as he himself 
thinketh best for our friends and children ; the Lord knoweth 
better what is good than we ourselves can desire, yet we 
must pray and beg with this condition, Thy will be done : 
that which we think is most dangerous turneth ofttimes to 
our good, and then, when we expect our undoing, God 
raiseth our greatest comfort ; and when it is our greatest 
extremity, then is his best opportunity ; if it be in him to bless 
and protect us, it is in him to do it when it seemeth good to 
himself. — Ibid. 

A merchant that keeps a book of debtor and creditor, 
writes both what is owino- him and what he oweth himself 
and then casteth up the whole : but God doth not so ; his 
mercy is triumphant over his justice, and therefore he wipes 
out what we owe him, and writes down that only which he 
owes us, by promise. Much like the clouds that receive ill 
vapours from us, yet return them again to us in sweet 
refreshing showers ; the very consideration of this may be 
as a full gale of wind to our sails to put us on to load God's 
chronicle with thankfulness, writing upon ourselves, by a 
real profession of his service, as Aaron did, " Holiness to the 
Lord." Surely our judgment is with the Lord, and our 
work with our God. Isa. xlix. 4.— Ibid. 

It is observable, that the Roman magistrates, when they 
gave sentence upon any one to be scourged, a bundle of rods, 
tied hard with many knots, was laid before them ; the reason 
was this, that whilst the beadle or flagelliser was untying 
the knots, which he was to do by order, and not in any other 
hasty or sudden way, the magistrate might see the deport- 
ment and carriage of the delinquent, whether he was sorry 
for his fault, and showed any hope of amendment, that then 
he might recal his sentence, or mitigate his punishment ; 
otherwise to be corrected so much the more severely. Thus 
God, in the punishment of sinners, how patient is he ! how 
loath to strike ! how slow to anger ! if there w T ere but any 
hopes of recovery, how many knots doth he untie! how 
many rubs doth he make in his way to justice! He doth not 
try us by martial law, but pleads the case with us ; " Why 



GOD. 



215 



will ye die, O house of Israel ?" and all this to see whether 
the poor sinner will throw himself down at his feet, 
whether he will come in, and make his composition, and be 
saved. — Ibid. 

iEschines, perceiving every one give Socrates something 
for a present, said unto him, " Because I have nothing else 
to give, I will give thee myself." " Do so," saith Socrates, 
" and I will give thee back again to thyself, better than 
when I received thee." So says God, If thou wilt give thy- 
self to me in thy prayers, in thy praises, in thy affections, 
and in all thy actions, I will give thyself back so much 
mended, that thou shalt receive thyself and me too ; thyself 
in a holy liberty to walk in the world in a calling ; myself, 
in giving a blessing upon all the works of thy calling, and 
imprinting in thee a holy desire to do all things to my glory. 
— Ibid. 

Anaxarchus the philosopher, being asked to what end he 
was born, replied, " To contemplate the sun, moon, and 
skies." And if the multitude of those around us were 
asked the same question, if they were to answer according 
to the tenor of their lives, they must reply, " We were born 
to love and regard the things of time and sense, and make 
our souls the drudge and slave of our bodies." But all who 
are taught of God would answer, " I was born to glorify 
God, and to be glorified by him." — Ibid. 

Modern astronomers have discovered what are commonly 
called maculce solares : i. e. certain spots which hover near 
the surface of the sun. Sometimes a considerable number of 
these are visible at once, and very often none at all. Phi- 
losophers are greatly divided as to the nature and cause of 
these solar spots : though it is generally agreed that they are 
not adherent to the sun's disc, but suspended at some dis- 
tance from it ; and there is reasonable ground to believe 
that, after a temporary suspension, they fall into the body of 
that grand luminary, and are instantaneously transmuted into 
one splendid mass with itself. Whether those reputed spots 
be really in the sun or not, thus much is infallibly certain, 
that " God is light, and in him is no darkness at all ;" no 
error, no impurity, no defect. The afflictive distributions of 



216 



GOD. 



his providence, and the limited communications of his grace, 
may, to the benighted eye of unregenerated reason, appear 
like the transitory spots which sometimes seem to disfigure 
the beauty, and to impair the lustre of the sun. " I am 
afflicted beyond measure, and without cause," cries a child of 
unbelief, while smarting under a providential rod. " God 
is partial and unjust, in converting some to holiness, and 
leaving' others to perish in their sins," says the unhumbled 
and proud-hearted. On the contrary, the faith of God's 
elect teaches its happy subjects to give their heavenly Father 
unlimited credit for being perfectly wise, and just, and good ; 
and to wait the end of his dispensations, when every seeming- 
spot shall vanish, and God will make his righteousness as 
evident as the light, and his just dealing as the noon-day. 

In common conversation, we frequently speak of solar 
eclipses. But what is called an eclipse of the sun is, in fact, 
an eclipse of the earth, occasioned by the moon's interference 
or transit between the sun and us. This circumstance makes 
no alteration in the sun itself, but only intercepts our view 
of it for a time. From whence does darkness of soul, even 
darkness that may be felt, usually originate ? Xever from 
any changeableness in our covenant God, the glory of whose 
unvarying faithfulness and love shines the same, and can 
suffer no eclipse. It is when the world, with its fascinating 
honours, or wealth, or pleasures, gets between our Lord and 
us, that the light of his countenance is obstructed, and our 
rejoicing in him suffers a temporary eclipse. 

The sun possesses, in a very supereminent degree, the 
two contrary powers of attraction and repulsion. By the 
former, the circuiting planets are retained, each in its proper 
orbit ; by the latter, they are prohibited from approaching 
him too nearly : a faint emblem of God's paternal attri- 
butes on one hand, and of his terrific perfections on the 
other. Those encourage us to draw nigh to him, as the 
everlasting love of our souls ; these restrain us from pre- 
sumptuous familiarities, and from taking undue liberties 
with him who is " glorious in holiness, fearful in praises," 
and whose greatness knows no limit. 

Hast thou seen the rainbow in the blue sky, when the 



GOD. 



217 



bright sun shineth without a cloud in the summer's heaven? 
Hast thou seen it in the driving tempest, when the whole 
horizon gathered blackness ? No ; but when the cloud of 
rain was in the sky, and the sun looked upon it from the 
other side of heaven, then did the falling drops receive the 
slanting beams, and untwisting their seven colours, return 
them to the eye of the beholder, a beautiful bow, " a faithful 
witness," the truth of God. And thus it is not chiefly in the 
bright season of worldly comfort that the faithful witness of 
God is seen and felt ; nor is it always in the season of afflic- 
tion ; for affliction may be unsanctified. But when the 
Sun of Righteousness sendeth forth his brio-lit beams into 
the cloud of tribulation, then is the faithfulness of God per- 
ceived, then is his love felt, then are his promises enjoyed, 
then " we glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribula- 
tion worketh patience," &c. 

Suppose a man should come into a curious artificer's shop, 
and there with one blow dash in pieces such a piece of art 
as had cost many years' study and pains in the contriving 
thereof, how could he bear with it? How would he take 
on to see the workmanship of his hands so rashly, so wil- 
fully destroyed ? He could not but take it ill, and be much 
troubled thereat. Thus it is, that as soon as God had set 
up and perfected the frame of the world, sin gave a blow at 
all ; it unpinned the frame, and had like to have pulled all 
in pieces again. Nay, had it not been for the promise of 
Christ, all this goodly frame had been reduced to its pri- 
mitive nothing again ; man by his sin had pulled down all 
about his ears ; but God in mercy keeps it up : man by his 
sin provokes God ; but God in mercy passeth by all affronts 
whatsoever. O the wonderful mercy, the omnipotent pa- 
tience of God ! 

A man cannot behold the sun in the eclipse, it so dazzleth 
his eyes ; but he may see the image of the sun reflected in 
the water ; so seeing we cannot behold the infinite God, nor 
comprehend him, we must therefore cast the eyes of our faith 
upon his image, Christ Jesus. When we look into a clear 
glass, it casteth no shadow to us ; but put steel upon the 
back, then it casteth a reflex, and showeth the face in the 



218 



GOD. 



glass ; so when we cannot see God himself, we must take 
the manhood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and there we shall 
have a comfortable reflex of his glory. — Spencer. 

When the king removes, the court and all the carriages 
follow after ; and when they are gone, the hangings are taken 
down, nothing is left behind but bare walls, dust, and rubbish. 
So, if God removes from a man or a nation, where he kept 
his court, his graces will not stay behind ; and if they be 
gone, — farewell peace, farewell comforts, down go the hang- 
ings of all prosperity, nothing is left behind but confusion 
and disorder. — Ibid. 

The sun doth manifest itself first by daylight, and that is 
common to all that dwell in the same horizon unto which 
the sun is risen: some have more than daylight, they have 
also the sun shining light, which shining light of the sun is 
not in all places where daylight is. Finally, the sun is mani- 
fested in the heavens in his full strength, for the body is 
present there, which none can endure but the planets, which 
become glorious bodies, by that special presence of the sun 
amongst them. In like manner God, in whom all things 
live and move and have their being, doth manifest himself 
unto some by the works of his general providence, of which 
St. Paul speaks, " God left not himself without witness," 
&c. This manifestation of God is like the daylight, it is com- 
mon to all, it is an universal grace : " the eyes of all things 
look up unto thee," &c. There is a second manifestation, 
and that is more particular, but to some only ; it is like the 
sunshine, it is that manifestation which God vouchsafeth to 
his church, of which Isaiah speaketh, " Arise, shine, for thy 
light is come," &c. In comparison of the church, the rest of 
the world sitteth in darkness, and in the shadow of death. 
The third and last manifestation, — is that which God maketh 
of himself in heaven to the angels and saints, the clearest and 
fullest whereof a creature is capable ; and those which par- 
take of the presence of God, become thereby glorious saints, 
more glorious than the stars which receive their resplendent 
lustre from the aspect which they have to the sun's body. 
So that it seems there are those which are in better case 
than we are, and there are those in worse ; therefore we must 



GOD. 



219 



thank God for our present advancement, and remember that 
we make forward unto that nearness unto God which is 
reserved for us in the heavens. 

In the extremity of any of the Lord's people, when the 
conspiring enemies are great in number and power, faith 
raises the drooping spirits by applying the word, — " If God 
be for us, who can be against us V When Antigonus was 
ready to engage in a sea-fight with Ptolemy's armada, and 
the pilot cried out, How many more are they than we ! the 
courageous king replied, ' Tis true if you count their numbers, 
but for how many do you value me ? One God is sufficient 
against all the combined forces of earth and hell. We are 
therefore commanded to cast all our care on him, for he 
careth for us. — Spencer. 

In spiritual desertion God will show us his sovereignty, 
and that he will be free to go and come at his own pleasure. 
A mariner has no cause to murmur and quarrel with God 
because the wind bloweth out of the east, when he desires a 
westerly gale. Why? — because it is his wind, and he will 
dispose these things according to his pleasure. So the 
comforts and outshining of his love are his, and he will take 
them, and give them as he sees good. — Ibid. 

As the potter's clay, when the potter hath spent some time 
and pains in tempering and forming it upon the wheel, and 
now the vessel is even almost brought to its shape, a man that 
stands by may with the least push put it clean out of shape, 
and mar all on a sudden that he hath been so long a making ; 
so it is that all the plots and contrivances of wicked men, 
all their turnings of things upside down, shall be but as the 
potter's clay ; for when they think they have brought all to 
maturity, ripeness, and perfection, when they look upon 
their business as good as done, on a sudden all their labour 
is lost, and God, that stands by all the while and looks on, 
will with one small touch, with the least breath of his mouth, 
blast and break all in pieces. — Ibid. 

In heaven our union with God is more near and noble, 
more intimate and influential, more inseparable and eternal, 
than we can now conceive. 'Tis observable in natural cau- 
salities, that what is of a more pure and refined nature is 



220 



GOD. 



more active and penetrating, and more closely unites with 
other things, than what is more gross and material. Light, 
which is the purest quality in the world, actuates all colours, 
and makes them visible, and actuates the eye, and conveys 
the lively image of the object with shining evidence into it, 
The sun shoots its invisible virtue into the deepest mines. 
Fire is more pure and subtle than water, and will pierce 
into solid metals, which the water cannot soak into. The 
glowing iron seems to be all fire. ISow God is the purest 
spirit, and of infinite energy, and can unite himself to our 
spirits more intimately than the closest union between any 
creatures in the world. He unites himself to the under- 
standing by an immediate radiation and discovery of his 
glorious excellencies. In thy light, saith the psalmist, we 
shall see light. He unites himself to the will, by the infusion 
of his love, and by that draws forth our love to him. This 
union is complete in heaven, and most communicative of the 
divine influences to the saints ; and consequently their con- 
formity and fruition of God is in the highest degrees that 
created spirits are capable of. 

When the will fixes upon the creature as its end, it is in 
a strait, in a house of bondage. Take the world in its own 
place, 'tis a spacious looking-glass of God's power and good- 
ness ; but take it as a man's end and happiness, 'tis too strait 
and narrow a place for the immortal spirit to breathe in. 
Thence carnal men, even in the fulness of sufficiency, are in 
straits. — Job. xx. But when the will fixes itself upon God 
as its end, 'tis free indeed. The Rabbins call God Place — 
and a large one he is — no less than an infinity and immen- 
sity of goodness — such as no desire or outgoing of the will 
can ever pass through. Here is room enough for an immor- 
tal spirit — Goodness enough to satiate the rational appetite 
for ever. 

God is Being itself. Being in the abstract, and all other 
beings are like so many lamps kindled around the temple 
of the universe, and all lighted and continued burning by 
him. 

A mariner in a storm would very fain save his goods ; but 
to save the ship, he heaves them overboard. A tender- 



GOD. 



221 



hearted mother corrects her child, whereas the stripes are 
deeper in her heart than in its flesh. As it was said by a judge, 
that being to give sentence of death upon an offender, " I do 
that good which I would not :" thus God, more loving than 
the careful mariner, more tender than the indulgent mother, 
and more merciful than the pitiful judge, is willingly unwil- 
ling that any sinner should die. He punisheth no man as 
he is a man, but as he is a sinful man. He loves him, yet 
turns him over to justice. It is God's work to punish, but it 
is withal his " strange work ;" his strange and foreign act, 
not his good will and pleasure, his nature and property being 
to have mercy on all men. — Spencer. 

It is said of vapours, that arising out of the earth, the 
heavens return them again in pure water, much clearer and 
more refined than they received them ; or, as it is said of the 
earth, that receiving the sea-water and turbid river-water, 
it gives it better than it received it in the springs and foun- 
tains ; for it strains the water and purifies it, that whereas 
when it came into the bowels of the earth it was muddy, 
salt, and brackish, it returns pure, clear, and fresh, as out of 
the well-head waters are well known to come. Thus, if 
men would but give up their heart's desire, and the strength 
of their affections unto God, he would not only give them 
back again, but withal much better than when he received 
them ; their affections should be more pure, their thoughts 
and all the faculties of soul and body should be renewed, 
cleansed, and beautified, and put into a far better condition 
than formerly they were. — Ibid. 

While Dr. Doddridge was at Bath, in his way to Falmouth, 
from which latter place he was to embark, and did embark, 
for Lisbon, Lady Huntingdon's house at Bath was his home. 
In the morning of the day on which he set out for Fal- 
mouth, Lady Huntingdon came into the room and found him 
weeping over that passage in the prophet Daniel, chap. x. 
11, 12, " O Daniel, a man greatly beloved," &c. " You are 
in tears, doctor," said Lady H. "I am weeping, madam, 
(answered the good doctor,) but they are tears of comfort 
and joy. I can give up my country, my relations, and 
friends, into the hands of God. And as to myself, I can as 



222 



GOD. 



well go to heaven from Lisbon as from my own study at 
Northampton." 

Mercury being very considerably nigher the sun than we, 
the disk of that illustrious object, viewed by Mercurian spec- 
tators, appears (as is computed) seven times larger than it 
does to us. Thus, the nearer we spiritually dwell to God, 
the more glorious does Christ, both as a divine person and 
a mediator, shine to the eye of faith. They who unhappily 
entertain low and degrading ideas of Jesus, give but too 
low and infallible demonstration, that they themselves are 
far, extremely far, removed from the light of Jehovah's 
truth, and from the warmth of Jehovah's grace. 

In the reign of King Edward the First there was much 
abuse in the traffic of all sorts of drapery, much wrong 
done betwixt man and man by reason of the diversity of 
their measures, every man measuring his cloth by his own 
yard ; which the king perceiving, being a goodly proper 
man, took a long stick in his hand, and having taken the 
length of his own arm, made proclamation through the 
kingdom, that ever after the length of that stick should be 
the measure to measure by, and no other. Thus God's 
justice is nothing else but a conformity to his being, 
the pleasure of his will ; so that the counsel of his will is the 
standard of his justice, whereunto all men should regulate 
themselves as well in commutative as distributive justice, and 
so much the more righteous than his neighbour shall every 
man appear, by how much he is proximate in this rule, and 
less righteous as he is the more remote. — Spencer. 

The gardener digs up his garden, pulls up his fences, 
takes up his plants, and to the eye seems to make a pleasant 
place as a waste piece of ground ; but every intelligent man 
knows that he is about to mend it, not to mar it ; to plant 
it better, not to destroy it. So God, even in our spiritual 
desertions, though he seem to annihilate, or to reduce his 
new creation, yet it is to repair its ruin, and make it more 
beautiful and glorious ; or, as in the repairing of a house 
we see how they pull down part after part, as if they in- 
tended to demolish it quite, but the end is to make it better; 
it may be some props and pillars are removed, but it is to 



GOD. 



223 



put it stronger ; it may be some lights are stopped up, but 
it is to make it fairer. So, though God take away our props, 
it is not that we may fall, but that he may settle us in 
greater strength ; he batters down the life of sense, to put 
us upon a life of grace : and when he darkens our light that 
we cannot see, it is but to bring in fuller light into our souls ; 
as when the stars shine not, the sun appears rejoicing our 
eyes for the loss of an obscure light with his clear bright 
shining beams. So that though God do forsake his people, 
yet not totally, not for ever, not ceasing the affection of 
love for any time : and when they seem to be turning more 
into a desolate and ruinous condition, yet even then is he 
building and preparing him to be a more excellent struc- 
ture. — Ibid. 

That workman should do ill, who, having built a house 
with another man's purse, should go about to set up his own 
name upon the front thereof ; and in Justinian's law it was 
decreed, that no workman should set up his name within the 
body of that building which he made out of another's cost. 
Thus Christ sets us all at work ; it is he that bids us to fast, 
and pray, and hear, and give alms, &c. ; but who is at the 
cost of all this ? whose are all these good works ? Surely 
God's. Man's poverty is so great, that he cannot reach a 
good thought, much less a good deed ; all the materials are 
from God, the building is his ; it is he that paid for it. Give 
but, therefore, the glory and the honour thereof unto God, 
and take all the profit to thyself. — Ibid. 



Gospel. 

The gospel runs in two golden streams — freedom of sin, 
and purity of walking : they run undividedly all along, in 
one channel, yet without confusion one with another, as it is 
reported of some great rivers that run together between the 
same banks, and yet retain distinct colours and natures all the 



224 



GOSPEL. 



way, till they part. But these " streams that glad the city 
of God" never part from one another ; the cleansing blood 
and the purifying light, these are the entire and perfect sum 
of the gospel ; purification from sin, the guilt of sin, and the 
purity of walking in the light, flowing from that, make up 
the full complexion of Christianity, which are so nearly con- 
joined together, that if they be divided they cease to be, 
and cannot any of them subsist, save in man's deluded ima- 
gination. — The Portfolio. 

The gospel pours contempt upon the head of the world 
and all the glory of it : it throws down all the mountains of 
earthly honour, riches, pleasures, wisdom, and of whatso- 
ever is called great under heaven, and fills up the valleys 
with them, and makes all but a level or plain. It takes 
away all difference between " Jew and Grecian," between 
"bond and free," between " male and female ;" and so be- 
tween rich and poor, honourable and despised, <xt\ making- 
all to be but " one in Christ Jesus.'' The meaning is. that it 
invests all those, without exception, who receive and subject 
themselves unto it, in an estate or condition so superabun- 
dantly glorious and blessed, that nothing any ways relating, 
or appertaining to their present condition in the world, 
whether convenience or inconvenience, privilege or disprivi- 
lege, honour or dishonour, riches or poverty, strength or 
weakness, health or sickness, is any ways considerable, or 
much to be regarded, in comparison thereof. It is only in 
the time of the night when " one star differeth from another 
in glory." When the sun ariseth in his might, he presently 
dissolved! all these distinctions of first and second, of fifth 
and sixth magnitudes between them, swallowing them up, 
as it were, into victory by the abundance of light which he 
still brings with him into the world. In like manner, the 
glorious gospel of Jesus Christ brings that excess of bless- 
edness and glory unto men which drowns all consideration 
and thought of such differences in their outward estates and 
conditions, which before seemed to distinguish them into 
mountains and molehills, into men happy, and men misera- 
ble ; even as the vastness of the globe or body of the earth 
causeth the mathematician, who yet useth to be very exact 



GOSPEL. 



225 



and punctual in his demonstrations, not so much as to men- 
tion, or take any notice either of the highest mountains or 
lowest valleys in his account concerning the figure of it, but 
pronounceth it perfectly spherical or round notwithstanding 
these. 

See here what different effects the gospel hath upon the 
children of men ; even as the sun hath in respect of his hot 
beams ; i. e., if it shines upon wax it softens that, but if it 
shines upon clay it hardens that ; also it shines upon a 
garden and causeth the herbs and flowers thereof to send 
forth a fragrant scent ; it shines upon a filthy dunghill, and 
what a loathsome stench doth the same beam produce ! So 
the gospel sun makes the hearts of believers soft and tender; 
but it tends (through sin and Satan's temptations) to make 
the hearts of some wicked men more hard ; " the gospel is 
a savour of life unto life" unto some, &c. 2 Cor. ii. 16. — 
Spexcek. 

I have seen a waste of stones with scarcely anything of 
soil amongst them. Yet even there, were one or two soli- 
tary flowers in blossoms. The wind had scattered there the 
seeds, the clews of heaven had fallen upon them, the little 
germs within had found something wherein to strike root ; 
and the plants had sprung up and flowered unobserved. 
Those plants shall wither there, and decay, and form a 
vegetable mould, the fit receptacle of other seeds, that shall 
spring up into other flowers, till the stony waste be covered 
with soil, and the soil with verdure and bloom. Thus are 
the seeds of the gospel carried abroad into heathen lands ; 
thus are they fostered by the blessed Spirit of God ; thus do 
they find in one or two happy hearts a soil wherein to 
strike ; and thus do they spring up into the beautiful flower 
of a holy life. And thus do the holy life and happy death 
of every saint of God afford a precious help to the preached 
gospel ; and the soil becomes deeper, and the verdure ex- 
tends further, till, according to the sure word of prophecy,, 
the whole waste of heathen land be turned into " the garden 
of the Lord."' 

The interest felt by the angels in all that concerns the 
gospel, and the eternal interests of men, put on their pro- 

Q 



226 



GOSPEL. 



bation, form a very humbling contrast to our cold mdiffer 
ence in what concerns us much more nearly than them. It 
is as if a ship nearing a lee shore in the midst of tremendous 
breakers, while every inhabitant of the neighbouring coast 
was watching her progress with beating hearts, and longing 
to see her delivered, the passengers and crew should pursue 
their wonted amusements : or. hangring: over the straining 
sides, idly speculate on the number of billows, and sport with 
the raging foam. Alas ! with the hosts of heaven there is 
all sympathy and intense interest — with perishing men all 
apathy and madness. — Christian Lady's Magazixe. 

The divine character of the gospel appears in this — in its 
wonderful capacity to adapt itself to the boundless wants of 
the whole family of man. It is like the mighty ocean which 
rolls itself on the wide-spreading shores of a hundred empires, 
and yet replenishes and fills with its tide the little creek. 
Thus the gospel, while it visits with its healing waters the 
wide-spreading church of Christ, fills, and supplies with 
the waters of life, the soul of the meanest believer in 
Jesus. 

The gospel is a plant which is not affected by earthly 
changes. It is the same in the temperate as in the torrid 
zone, and as in the frigid. It does not seem to be scorched 
by heats, or benumbed by cold : age does not diminish the 
freshness of its bloom ; soil does not affect its nature ; cli- 
mate does not modify its peculiar properties. Among the 
frost-bound latitudes of North America, and the burning 
sands of Africa, or the fertile plains of India, we find it still 
shooting up the same plant of renown, the same vine of the 
Lord's right hand planting, the same " tree of life " raised 
up from the beginning of time, " whose leaves were for the 
healing of the nations ;" and under which all kindreds, and 
tribes, and tongues, and people, shall one day rejoice when 
privileged to take shelter under its all-covering shade, and 
draw refreshing nourishment from its perennial fruits. 

Philosophy, or rather discovery, has represented that 
there is a gravitating centre which is the central point of 
all the movements concurrent and contradictory, that appear 
in the visible heavens, and which are extended through the 



GOSPEL. 



227 



invisible regions of space in the universe; and we have 
thought, what a sublime point it would be to occupy, could 
some intelligent being stand there capable of looking through 
the vast machinery around him, analysing the movement of 
those mighty orbs through all their revolutions, and seeing 
this great influence combining and preserving all in their 
places ! But what is imagination in one case is fact in 
another. We are placed at this moment with the Bible in 
our hands in that central point of light and influence ; we 
are standing at that point in the moral universe from which 
we can look abroad, and see the ten thousand various move- 
ments of the moral world, combined, and united, and made 
to concur under the sustaining power and government of 
God ; by that power which is influencing, and directing all. 
Standing in the great point of light and energy, we can see 
the various mission societies, and associations, held together 
in one great bond of principle — the diffusion of the light 
and knowledge of Christ through the darkness of the world 
— till all worlds, all lands, shall unite in the great harmo- 
nious and heavenly strain, " Hallelujah ! for the Lord God 
omnipotent reigneth." 

At first but a beam of light is seen to glimmer in the 
midst of the darkness. * And the night still seems to hold 
its undisturbed sway. But the beam becomes slowly a 
streak of light shooting its way in the path of heaven. It 
becomes more fixed and determinate in its character ; it 
increases, it is a glowing light. There is a mass of darkness 
still around, and clouds yet hang about it ; but it contends 
successfully with the darkness, still it penetrates, still it 
breaks through the hideous mass ; the contest is no longer 
doubtful, and the clouds and shadows flee away. But the 
rising beam at first so faintly seen, and dimly visible, would 
have been soon lost and overwhelmed in the darkness which 
it invaded, if it had not been a beam from an exhaustless 
fountain of light, the sun. That continued to send forth . 
supplies of strength, by adding beam upon beam. And 
now it pours out its effulgent rays, and now this dawning 

* This simile has been used before, to illustrate the progress of conversion 
in the believer, page 44. 

Q2 



228 



GOSPEL. 



beam is become a bright and glorious sun, ascending ma- 
jestically through the heavens, the mighty creative principle of 
fruitfulness, ripening, maturing, and enriching the vegetable 
kingdom, and in its brightness showing forth a faint image 
of its Maker's glory. In like manner the first manifestation 
of the gospel is like that little beam of light. The land 
which it visits is involved in the deepest shades of darkness. 
A mental and spiritual midnight rests upon it. But it 
becomes a growing light, and as it flashes its beams around, 
it only serves to make more visible the darkness and misery 
of the benighted inhabitants. What though its enemies 
deny it to be the true light — and though all the clouds of hea- 
then darkness and superstition overhang its pathway,yetit still 
contends, and contends successfully, penetrating the foul and 
hideous mass of corruption around it. And so this little beam 
would have been long since overwhelmed and swallowed up, 
if it had not been supplied from the exhaust-less fountain of 
the Sun of Righteousness ; if it had not the promise, " thy 
light shall no more go down ;" yes, and soon this increasing- 
light is destined to ascend the heavens, and fill the whole 
horizon with its beams. Like the natural sun it shall con- 
tinue its noble and majestic course till its light shall fall 
upon every darkened nook of the habitable world, mani- 
festing itself, as it everywhere rolls its course, the mighty 
creative principle of fruitfulness, enriching the world, 
civilising it with true knowledge, and making it to flourish 
everywhere with the fruits of peace, happiness, good will 
and love to God and man : — a sun that shall never go down, 
but continue to shine till the light of grace is lost and 
swallowed up in the more illustrious splendours of the light 
of glory. 

A party of the Syrian host, as they were foraging about, 
alighted upon a little Hebrew maid ; they brought her to 
Naaman, their commander-in-chief ; he bestows her upon his 
wife ; the girl, perceiving that he was infected with leprosy, 
said unto her mistress, " Would to God my lord were with 
the prophet that is in Samaria, he would soon deliver him 
of his leprosy." Such is the voice of the gospel to every 
unrepentant sinner ; O that you would come to Christ, seek 



GOSPEL. 



229 



after him with a lively faith and repentance for your sins ; 
he would deliver you from the threatening^ of the law, and 
release you from those impossible conditions, which you are 
there bound unto ; he hath conquered death and hell for 
your sakes, paid the ransom for your sins, and in the end, 
by his redemption, will bring you to life everlasting. — 
Spencer. 

As the scope of the sun is in all the world, and yet at one 
time the sun doth not shine in all the parts thereof, it be- 
ginneth in the east and passeth to the south, and so to the 
west ; and as it passeth forward, bringeth light to one place, 
withdraweth from another : so is it in regard of the Sun of 
Righteousness, the sunshine of the gospel ; he hath a right 
to the whole earth, but he hath not at the same time possession 
of the whole earth : the propriety of all is his, but he taketh 
possession of it all, successively, and by parts ; the eastern 
churches, the southern have had his light ; which now are 
in darkness for the most part ; and we that are more 
northerly, do now enjoy the clearest noontide ; but the sun 
hath now arisen in the west, and whether after noon our 
light will set, God knoweth ; yet the cause hereof is not in 
the Sun of Righteousness, as the cause why all have not 
light at one time is in the material sun. The material sun 
cannot at one time enlighten all, The Sun of Righteous- 
ness can. But for the sins of the people the candlestick is 
removed, and given to a nation that will bear more fruit; 
we interpose our earthliness between ourselves and the sun, 
and so exclude ourselves from the beams thereof. — Ibid. 

Think not that the beauties of this world are for the rich 
and great alone. The illuminated drawing-room, the green- 
house, and the hot-house, they are theirs ; but the quiet 
moonlight, the nightly heavens, with their multitude of 
shining worlds, the sun spreading his splendour over a sky 
of cloudless blue, or lighting up the clouds of evening with 
a thousand gorgeous hues, the air perfumed in its passage 
over fields and heath, the lovely flowers of the wild, and 
hedge-row, these are provided by a beneficent God for rich 
and poor alike. And who would leave these for the painted 
gaieties of art ? So the blessings of the gospel are not for 



230 



GOSPEL. 



the learned alone. They may taste the beauties of the 
inspired poetry better, and penetrate more deeply into the 
few obscurities of holy writ : but the comforts of the Bible, 
pardon of sin, reconciliation with God, peace, and holiness, 
and heaven — these are for all ; these gladden the heart of 
the labourer at his toil, of the patient of an hospital on his 
dying bed. And beware then how thou quit these divine 
consolations for all that learning can offer. 

Meditation takes the veil off from the face of truth. The 
glory and beauty of truth cloth not consist in an expression, 
but we ought to penetrate into the nature of it by reflection. 
We have an expression of Solomon, speaking of knowledge 
and understanding, he bids us to search for her as for hidden 
treasure ; observe the expression, — you know jewels do not 
lie upon the surface of the ground, but they are hid in the 
receptacles of the earth, you must dig for them before you 
can enjoy them. Truth is i?i prof undo, and our understand- 
ings are dark. Now you must search for the truth of God 
as for hid treasures. He that rides post through a country 
is never able to make a full description of it ; and he that 
takes but a transitory view of the truths of the gospel, will 
never come to the full knowledge of them. 'Tis meditation 
makes them appear to our eye in their beauty and lustre. 
Take a similitude of Peter Martyr. Suppose a person 
should for the first time see a company of men dancing at 
a great distance, he would look upon the men as full of 
madness and frenzy ; but if he draw near, then he will find 
their motions regular and full of art : so, many mysteries of 
the gospel, if you look upon them at a distance, they are 
above reason, they seem to oppose sense, you cannot see the 
truth of them ; but bring; them to a near distance within the 
view of thy soul by meditation, and then you will see their 
excellency and glory. 



GRACE. 



231 



€&race. 

It was observed by a Spanish confessor, who was also a 
famous preacher, that in persons not very religious, confes- 
sions, which they made upon their deathbed, were the 
coldest, the most imperfect, and with less contrition than all 
that he had observed them to make in many years before. 
For so the canes of Egypt, when they newly arise from 
their bed of slime and mud of Nilus, start up into an equal 
and continual length, and are interrupted but with few 
knots, and are strong and beauteous, with great distances 
and intervals ; but when they are grown to their full length, 
they lessen into the point of a pyramid, and multiply their 
knots and joints, interrupting the fineness and smoothness 
of its body ; so are the steps and declensions of him that 
does not grow in grace. At first, when he springs from his 
impurity by the waters of baptism and repentance, he grows 
straight and strong, and suffers but few interruptions of 
piety ; and his constant courses of religion are but rarely 
intermitted, till they ascend up to a full age, or towards the 
end of their life ; then they are weak, and their devotions 
often intermitted, and their breaches are frequent, and they 
seek excuses, and labour for dispensations, and love God 
and religion less and less — till their old age, instead of a 
crown of their virtue and perseverance, ends in levity and 
unprofitable causes ; light and useless as the tufted feathers 
upon the cane, every wind can play with it and abuse it, but 
no man can make it useful. When, therefore, our piety 
interrupts its greater and more solemn expressions, and, 
upon the return of the greater offices and bigger solemnities, 
we find them to come upon our spirits like the wave of a 
tide, which retired only because it was natural so to do, and 
yet came farther upon the strand at the next rolling ; when 
every new confession, every succeeding communion, every 
time of separation for more solemn and intense prayer is 
better spent, and more affectionate, leaving a greater relish 



232 



GRACE. 



upon the spirit, and possessing greater portions of our 
affections, our reason, and our choice — then we may give 
God thanks. 

How is natural life maintained ? By continual acts of 
inspiration. The acts of breathing which I performed yes- 
terday, will not keep me alive to-day. I must continue to 
breathe afresh, and so, to receive grace every moment, in 
order to my enjoying the consolations, and to my working 
the works of God. 

The growth of grace in the heart may be compared to the 
process of polishing metals. First, you have a dark opaque 
substance, neither possessing nor reflecting light. Presently, 
as the polisher plies his work, you will see here and there a 
spark darting out ; then a strong light, till, by-and-bye, it 
sends back a perfect image of the sun which shines upon it. 
So the work of grace, if begun in our hearts, must be gra- 
dually and continually going on ; and it will not be com- 
pleted till the image of God can be seen perfectly reflected 
in us. 

God holds out to you, as it were, a thread not stronger 
than a spider's web, and says- — " Take hold of this thread ; 
I will increase its strength day by day, until it becomes the 
line of salvation to you." So it is with grace. If you che- 
rish this, if you reflect upon what you read and hear, and 
daily pray to be made wise by these instructions, God will 
increase your interest to its consummation, till you become 
perfect ones in Christ Jesus. But if you lose your hold on 
this thread, you are lost. 

O to think that I was once in that black roll of those ex- 
cluded from the kingdom ! Such were some of you ; and 
then to consider, that my name was taken out, and washed 
by the blood of Christ, to be enrolled in the register of 
heaven. What an astonishing thing is it ! You see in 
nature God hath appointed contrarieties and varieties to 
beautify the world ; and certainly many things could not be 
known how good and beneficial they are, but by the smart 
and hurt of that which is opposite to them ; as you could 
not imagine the good of light, but by some sensible expe- 
rience of the evil of darkness. Heat, you could not know 



GRACE. 



233 



the full benefit of it, but by the vexation of cold. Thus he 
maketh one to commend another, and both to beautify the 
world. It is thus in art ; contrariety, and variety of colours 
and lines, make up one beauty : diversity of sounds makes a 
sweet harmony. Now, this is the art and wisdom of God ; 
in the dispensation of his grace, he setteth the misery of 
some beside the happiness of others, that each of them may 
aggravate another ; he puts light beside darkness, spirit fore 
against flesh, that so saints may have a double accession to 
their admiration at the goodness and grace of God, and to 
their delight and complacency in their own happiness : he 
presents the state of man out of Christ, that you may wonder 
how you are " translated," and may be so abundantly satis- 
fied as not to exchange your portion for the greatest mo- 
narchy. 

He who hears sermons, and doth not do them, is a monster 
in religion. He is all head and ears, having neither hands 
to work with, nor feet to walk with. There is a disease to 
which children are subject, called the rickets, wherein their 
heads swell as large as two heads, and their legs are crooked, 
which hinders their going. We have many rickety Chris- 
tians ; they hear much, and their heads swell with empty 
notions and undigested opinions, but their legs are crooked, 
their walking is perverse ; every such person is a mocker of 
God, or deceiver of himself, a discourager of ministers, a 
barren soil, a bad servant, a mere beholder of himself in a 
glass, a builder of his house upon the sand. — The Port- 
folio. 

The heart of a true Christian is always the seat of grace, 
though he may not always be actually able to discern it. 
A sun-dial is a sun-dial ; and the characters are strongly 
marked upon it, though we cannot see which way it points, 
but when the sun shines upon it. 

When a pearl or diamond is defiled with dust or mire, its 
lustre cannot be discerned until it be washed. When cor- 
ruptions are great, and experiences small, a little grace can 
hardly be discerned ; as a needle is more difficult to be dis- 
cerned than a staff. 

Inherent grace, below, resembles silver in the ore ; which, 



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though genuine silver, is mingled with much earth and 
dross : glory above, resembles silver refined to its proper 
standard, and wrought into vessels of the most exquisite 
workmanship. 

We are apt to suppose that God is such an one as our- 
selves. If we wish to enjoy the patronage of a great man, 
we very naturally think we must say or do something that 
may acquire his esteem, and recommend us to his notice. 
Thus would we also treat with God ; when, alas ! the plain 
truth is, we can have, and say, and do, nothing that he ap- 
proves, until he himself give it of his free grace, and work 
it in us by his Spirit. 

Weak grace is real grace — however feeble its commence- 
ment, yet is it a reality in the soul of man. If we had res- 
cued some poor struggling creature from the waves, one 
whom we had watched buffeting with the storm, and had 
seen sink at last beneath the many waters — if we had 
brought him to the shore, and yet could mark no evidence of 
life in him, not a breath stirring, not an eyelid moving, not 
one single gesture to describe consciousness, but all apparent 
death— we go on in hope, we use every means, persevere in 
every remedy, and at last we hear one feeble sigh, we see 
the eyelash gently move, we see some little change in the 
features. What conclusion do we draw from it ? He lives ; 
he has life ; life as real as if he walked and moved ; as es- 
sentially as if we saw him rise in all the vigour, and strength, 
and power of health and animation. Look at the dead sin- 
ner — there he stands " dead in trespasses and sins ;" nothing 
moves him ; we preach to him the terrors of the law, we 
speak to him, though dead, just as Ezekiel spake to the dry 
bones ; the mandate goes forth from the eternal God, " Go, 
my Spirit, and touch his heart ; go and enlighten his consci- 
ence ; go and take away that hard clod that bears upon his 
affections ; go and convey life into his soul." What is the 
effect ? He begins to feel sin ; he begins now to cry 
out, " God be merciful to me a sinner." " Lord save me, 
or I perish." We begin now to see him a praying man. 
" Behold he prayeth." We find that that individual who 
was " enmity against God, by reason of his wicked works," 



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now turning to the wall, and calling upon God. We find 
him now pleading the blood of Christ—looking to him for 
mercy to pardon, and grace to sanctify. This is a reality. 
It is as real as the evil principle is real within him. It is no 
fancy that he has inherited an evil principle in his heart 
from the first Adam : so is it no fancy, but a reality, that he 
hath received a holy principle from the second Adam, com- 
municated to him by the eternal Spirit. 

Grace in the saints is not like light in the sun, that springs 
from itself, but like the light of a lamp that is constantly 
fed with supplies of oil, otherwise the weak light will faint and 
die. Inherent grace is maintained by the continual emana- 
tions from the Holy Spirit : nay, the habits of grace are drawn 
forth into active and vigorous exerise, by supervehement 
exciting grace, without which they would be ineffective and 
useless. As there cannot be actual sight unless the organs 
of sight be irradiated by light of the air ; so without special 
assisting grace we cannot do any spiritual good, nor avoid 
evil : we shall be foiled by every temptation, even the best 
will leave God, and provoke God to leave them. 

Suppose two persons, at the same time, to set off for the 
same place, yet have unequal distances. Though the length 
of the way to be travelled over be greater in the one case 
than the other, yet they may both arrive at the same time. 
And it is equally clear that he who started from the greatest 
distance may arrive the soonest with an increased rate of 
motion. But should his pace be only equal to, or even slower 
than that of the other, a much greater time would be required 
to accomplish the distance. It is thus with two pilgrims 
who are called to travel in the kingdom of grace. The one 
who is converted some years previous to the other, may yet 
go forward so slowly, that the latter may soon .reach his 
attainments in the divine life. In a little while he will evi- 
dently outstrip him, and his light and eminence as a Chris- 
tian will be far more conspicuous if he continue to enjoy 
the same advantages, and to press forwards with the same 
earnest diligence. But let a man who is called late in 
years only use the same means and exertions, and enjoy no 
superior advantages to those Christians who were called in 



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their younger days, and how long and toilsome will be his 
way! But should he be more careless, and less zealous 
and earnest in pressing on, how wofully and sadly will 
he be left behind : and how many must be his secret mis- 
givings and fears lest he should not attain the meetness and 
ripeness of his happier brethren ! Let then the old in years 
and young in grace lay it deeply to heart, that they give 
all diligence to make their calling and election sure. 

The varying state and condition of grace in the soul, 
may be aptly compared to a little brook which undergoes the 
changes of the seasons. Sometimes full, its swelling waters 
are ready to overleap their banks, and seem to say that 
they shall never fail. But again we see it low and scarcely 
able to supply its feeble stream. And how does grace 
seem to fill every faculty of the soul, and we are ready to 
say inwardly, It shall be ever thus with us, we would " walk, 
O Lord, in the light of thy countenance, and in thy name 
will we be exalted." But again how does the stream run? 
it seems like that rivulet which we sometimes mark in the 
green valley ; we cannot see it there, we can trace out the 
little bank of green on each side, and that is all ; and some- 
times it is so dried up, one can hardly see any track of it at 
all. What are we to do? To live by faith; for though 
the stream is so shallow, the fountain is full. What more 
encouraging than that, though I be nothing, " Christ is all" 
— Christ is enough for me ; his grace is sufficient, and he is 
ready to give me all I want. The fault is not in him, but 
in me ; he has enough and to spare ; for although my stream 
hardly keepeth on its way, yet his is the full fountain run- 
ning over in all the fulness of its own essence, in all the 
o-oodliness of its own nature. 

Take heed that thou dost not mistake and think thy grace 
decays, when, may be, 'tis only thy temptations increase, 
and not thy grace decreases. If you should hear a man 
say, because he cannot to-day run so fast, when an hundred 
weight is on his back, as he could yesterday without 
any such a burthen, that therefore he was grown weaker, 
you would soon tell him where his mistake lies. 

The Christian's care should be to get his armour speedily 



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237 



repaired ; a battered helmet is next to no helmet in point 
of present use ; grace in decay is like a man pulled off his 
les;s by sickness ; if some means be not used to recover it, 
little service will be clone by it, or comfort received from 
it. Therefore Christ gives the Church of Ephesus (to whom 
Paul wrote the epistle) this counsel : " To remember from 
whence she was fallen, to repent, and do her first works." 
How many does a declining Christian wrong at once ! 

Grace is a plant of heaven, productive of fruits suitable to 
its quality ; and 'tis proper to its nature to be tending to 
perfection. A tree that ceases to grow before it is come to 
its perfection, and brings not forth fruit in its season, withers 
and dies. A Christian that continues unfruitful has no life, 
but is exposed to the just threatening of excision and the 
fire. He that limits himself in religion is in a state of death. 
Men must be disenchanted from that pernicious persuasion, 
that without using sincere endeavours to be perfectly holy, 
they may safely go to heaven. 

Observe whether Satan is not more than ordinarily let loose 
to assault thee ; whether thy temptations come not with 
more force and violence than ever ; possibly, though thou 
dost not with the same facility overcome these, as thou hast 
done less, yet grace may act stronger in conflicting with the 
greater than in overcoming the less. The same ship that 
when light ballasted and favoured with the wind goes 
mounting, at another time deeply laden, and going against 
wind and tide, may move with a slow pace, and yet they in 
the ship take more pains to make it sail thus, than they did 
when it went faster. 

How much does it amplify the loss of any good thing 
when nothing is left ! After the harvest, if there be some 
gleanings ; though a tree be cut down, yet if there be a root 
left; though the sun go down, yet if it be twilight — these 
small remainders are no small refreshings ; but when God 
leaves no sparkles of grace that may be kindled again, we 
may write Lo-ruhama on that soul. — Spencer. 

Unregenerate men grow but in the generalities flourishes, 
devout representation, and the formalities of Christianity. 
Which is like the growth of seed springing out of the stony 



238 



GRACE. 



ground; but the honest and good heart bringeth forth fruit 
in patience : spiritual stumblings there may be ; but as good 
seed in a good soil, being refreshed after a binding drought 
with a shower, springs up faster and more freshly ; so it is 
with the sound-hearted Christian, after a damp in grace, to 
which he may sometimes be subject. For being raised and 
quickened out of such a state by the awakening voice 
of a piercing ministry, the cutting sting of a heavy cross, 
or some other special hand of God, he lays hold upon the 
kingdom of Christ with more violence than before, and 
labours afterwards, by the help of God, to repair his former 
spiritual decay, with double diligence. Progress in christian 
grace is compared to the ascending of the sun in midday, 
which may be overcast with a cloud ; but, after he has re- 
covered a clear sky, shines more brightly and sweetlv. 

The grandest operations both in nature and in grace are 
the most silent and imperceptible. The shallow brook 
bubbles in its passage, and is heard by every one ; but the 
coming on of the seasons is silent and unseen. The storm 
rages and alarms ; but its fury is soon exhausted, and its 
effects are partial, and soon remedied ; but the dew, though 
gentle and unheard, is immense in quantity, and the very 
life of large portions of the earth. And these are pictures of 
the operation of grace in the church, and in the soul. 

Grace in the believer sets the heart upon God above all. 
It may and doth love creatures as the print of his power and 
goodness ; ordinances as the conduit-pipes of his grace and 
spirit ; and saints as the pictures and resemblances of his 
image ; but it sets his heart upon God above all. This 
jDrinciple is a fire dropt down from heaven into the heart 
to consume the dross of corruption, and inflame the affec- 
tions for God ; 'tis a touch from Christ risen, and sitting in 
glorv? to raise up the affections out of the tombs and graves 
of earthly vanities, and to quicken and inspire them with 
the life of God, that God may be " all in all" therein. 

Prov. xxi. 1. The king's heart is in the hand of the Lord, 
as the rivers of water : he turneth it whithersoever he will. 
The simile here employed is taken from the method of 
watering gardens in the East, by means of small rills or 



GRACE. 



239 



canals, duo- from one stream, and running in different 
directions as occasion requires. Thus, the direction of the 
heart is in the hand of Jehovah, as the distribution of water 
through the garden is at the will of the gardener. The 
nature of the water is not here altered, nor is any force put 
upon it : so God's providence does not interfere with man's 
free will, nor change his affections, but only directs the 
course of them to serve his own purpose. 

The new principle which is implanted in us by divine grace 
is engTafted on a corrupt nature. It is like the graft of a 
tree ; the upper part only is the graft ; it is something added 
to an old stock. Just so, the new principle is something- 
added and superinduced on the old stock of the old Adam- 
nature which is in us. 

Weakness of grace is frequently attended with excessive 
and passionate joys and strong fancies. These persons are 
like a ship that is tossed in the tempest : that is, one while 
lifted up as to the clouds, and presently cast down as into an 
infernal gulf : one day in great joy, and the next in as 
o-reat perplexity and sorrow. 

A beautiful person without true grace is but a fair stinking 
weed ; you know the best of such an one if you look on her 
furthest off ; whereas a sincere heart, without this outward 
beauty to commend it. is like some sweet flower, (not painted 
with such fine colours on the leaves.) better in the hand 
than eye, to smell on. than look on ; the nearer you come 
to the sincere soul, the better you find him. 

Outward uncomeliness to true grace is but as some old, 
mean building you sometimes see stand before a goodly, 
stately house ; which hides its glory only from the traveller 
that passeth by it at some distance; but he that cometh in 
sees the beauty, and admire- it. 

As an instrument, even when it has an edge, cutteth 
nothing until it is assisted and moved by the hand of the arti- 
ficer ; so a Christian, when he has a will and an habitual 
fitness to work, yet is able to do nothing without the con- 
stant supply, assistance, and concomitancy of the grace of 
Christ exciting, moving, and supplying that habitual power 
unto particular actions. 



240 



GRACE. 



As light is necessary and requisite unto seeing, and yet 
there is no seeing- without an eye ; so without the assisting 
grace of Christ's spirit concurring with us unto every holy 
duty, we can do nothing : and yet that grace presupposes 
an implanted and habitual grace fore-disposing the soul 
unto the said duties. 

Grace in a young believer, inasmuch as there is yet much 
unmortified corruption, acts with more difficulty, as in a fire 
newly kindled, where the smoke is more than the flame ; 
so like beer newly tunned, which runs thick. 

There is no doubt but Christ communicates supplies of 
grace for their increase in holiness to all his saints. Whence 
then is it that they do not all flourish and thrive accordingly ? 
As you may see it oftentimes in a natural body, so it is here. 
Though the seat and rise of the blood in the heart be excel- 
lently good and sound, yet there may be a withering mem- 
ber in the body ; somewhat intercepts the influences of life 
unto it. So that though the heart performs its office, in 
giving supplies no less to that than it does any other member, 
yet all the effect produced is, merely to keep it from utter 
perishing; it grows weak, and decays every day. The 
withering and decaying of any member in Christ's mystical 
body is not for the want of his communications of grace for 
an abundant life, but from the powerful interception that 
is made of the inefficacy of it by the interposition and 
opposition of indwelling sin. Oftentimes Christ gives very 
much grace where not many of its effects do appear. It 
spends its strength and power in withstanding the continual 
assaults of violent corruptions and lusts, so that it v cannot 
put forth its proper virtue towards further fruitfulness. As 
a virtuous medicine, that is fit both to check vicious and 
noxious humours, and to comfort, refresh, and strengthen 
nature ; if the evil humour be strong and greatly prevailing, 
spends its whole strength and virtue in the subduing and 
correcting of it, contributing much less to the relief of na- 
ture than otherwise it would do, if it met not with much 
opposition ; so is it with eye-salve, and the healing grace 
which we have abundantly from " the wings" of the Sun of 
Righteousness. It is forced oftentimes to put forth its virtue 
to oppose and contend against, and in any measure subdue, 



GRACE. 



241 



prevailing* lusts and corruptions ; that the soul receiveth not 
that strengthening unto duties and fruitfulness which other- 
wise it might receive by it, is from hence. How sound, 
healthy, and flourishing, how fruitful and exemplary in 
holiness, might many a soul be, by, and with that grace 
which is continually communicated to it from Christ, which 
now, by reason of the power of indwelling sin, is only not 
dead, but weak, withering, and useless. This makes the 
vineyard in the very fruitful hill to bring forth so many 
wild grapes. This makes so many trees barren in fertile 
fields. 

Either exercise thy grace, or Satan will act thy corrup- 
tion ; as one bucket goes down the other riseth ; there is a 
body of sin within, which, like a malignant party, watcheth 
for such a time to step into the saddle, and 'tis easier to keep 
them down than to pull them down. Thy time is short, 
and thy way long ; thou hadst best put on, lest thou meanest 
to be overtaken with night, before thou gettest within sight 
of thy Father's house. How uncomfortable 'tis for a tra- 
veller in heaven-road (above all other) to go in the dark, 
many can with aching hearts tell thee. And what hast thou 
here to mind like this ? Are they worldly cares and plea- 
sures ? Is it wisdom to lay out so much cost on thy tene- 
ment, which thou art leaving, and forget what thou must 
carry with thee ? The world is near its port, and therefore 
God hath contracted the sails of man's life ; but awhile, and 
there will not be a point to choose, whether we had wives 
or not, riches or not ; but there will be a vast difference 
between those that had grace, and those that had not ; yea, 
between those that did drive a quick trade in the exercise 
thereof, and those that were more remiss ; the one shall 
have an "abundant entrance into glory," (2 Pet. i. 11,) 
while the other shall suffer loss in much of his lading, which 
shall be cast overboard as merchandise that will bear no 
price in that heavenly country. 

Try by this whether you have grace or no, dost thou walk 
in the exercise of thy grace ? He that hath clothes, surely 
will wear them, and not be seen naked. Men talk of their 
faith, repentance, love to God ; these are precious graces ; 

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242 



GRACE. 



but why do they not let us see these walking abroad in their 
daily conversation ? Surely if such guests were in thy soul, 
they would look out of the window sometimes, and be seen 
abroad in their duty, and holy action. Grace is of a stirring- 
nature, and not such a dead thing (like an image) which you 
may lock up in a chest, and none shall know what God you 
worship ; no, grace will show itself, it will walk with you 
in all places and companies ; it will buy with you, and sell 
for you ; it will have a hand in all your enterprises ; it will 
comfort you when you are sincere and faithful to God, and 
it will complain and chide you when you are otherwise ; go 
to, stop its mouth, and heaven shall hear its voice ; it will 
groan, mourn, and strive ; even as a living man when you 
smother him. I will as soon believe the man to be alive, 
that lies peaceably as he is nailed up in his coffin, without 
strife, or bustle, as that thou hast grace, and never exercisest 
it in any acts of spiritual life. What, man ! hast thou grace, 
and carried so peaceably, as a fool to the stocks, by thy 
lust ? If thou be such a tame slave as to sit still under the 
command of lust, thou deceivest thyself. 

Why blooms one tree in yonder vale, more than another ? 
Must friendly mountains, the wide-spreading plain, the 
flowing river which runs hard by it, the swelling breeze, the 
fertile soil, the showers, the precious dew, the all-producing 
sun, have alone the praise ? Or must that God that made 
the sun, who fills the clouds with rain, directs the shower 
where to fall, who withholds the north wind, and from his 
boundless treasures sends the south — who framed the soil, 
and taught the fruitful rivers where to flow, — have all the 
glory ? How much more of grace, which is contained in no 
creature system, but ever flows immediate from himself! 

The distinction between nature and grace consists in a 
reversed current of the affections — that between grace and 
glory consists in the tenor of that current. In the state of 
regeneration here below, it is alone obstructed, and unequal. 
In the future state the current will flow back to its ocean, in 
fulness of tide, without interruption or inequality of motion. 
Now it is the circulation of the vital fluids in a state of op- 
pressive disease— then in one of complete and eternal health. 



GRACE. 



243 



Take a river — let it be dammed arid stopped up, yet, if 
the course of it be natural, if the vent and stream of it be to 
go downward, at length it will overbear, and ride trium- 
phantly over : or let water that is sweet be made brackish 
by the coming in of the salt water ; yet, if it naturally be 
sweet, at the length it will work it out. So it is with every 
man ; look what the constant stream of his disposition is, 
look what the frame of it is; if it is grace, that which 
is now natural and inward to a man, though it may be 
dammed up, and stopped in such a course for a while, yet 
it will break through all at the last ; and though there be 
some brackish and some sinful dispositions that may break 
in upon a man, yet by the grace of God he will wear them 
out, because his natural disposition, the frame of his heart, 
runs another way. 

The virgin vestals of the Pagans had a continual fire, 
which if it happened by any mischance to go out, they might 
not give it light again, only from the sun. Thus our natural 
cleanness and purity of life being quite extinguished by the 
sin of Adam, there is no means under heaven to renew it — 
we cannot kindle it again but at the Sun of Righteousness, 
Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom belongeth that which is said 
in Psalm xxxvi. 9 — " The fountain of life is with thee," &c. 

A young scholar, when he has gotten his lesson once by 
heart, thinketh he hath as much logic as his tutor can teach 
him ; but when he cometh to understand things, he seeth 
his own error. And so the raw students at Athens, when 
they were but yet freshmen, they thought that they moved 
in a circle of knowledge ; they would be called Sophoi, 
wise men ; but having spent some time at their books, they 
found themselves at a loss, and thought it a great honour to 
be called Philo-Sophi, lovers of wisdom : and last of all, 
having made some good progress through the arts and 
sciences, they accounted themselves Moroi, that understood 
nothing at all ; the more knowledge they had, the more 
they discovered their own weakness and ignorance. So the 
more men believe, the more they come to see and feel their 
unbelief ; the further they wade on in the study and prac- 
tice of repentance, the more they find out and discover their 

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GRACE. 



own impenitency, and complain of the hardness and unto- 
wardness of their own hearts. The more they labour and 
make progress in sound sanctification, the more they come 
to apprehend and see their own corruptions. And this 
very sense of wanting grace is an argument of grace, for 
Christ saith, blessed are the poor, as well as pure, in spirit ; 
the one shall see God, and the other hath a present right to 
the kingdom of heaven, which is the same in effect. — 
Spencer. 

Look at a coal covered with ashes ; there is nothing ap- 
pearing in the hearth but only dead ashes ; there is neither 
light, nor smoke, nor heat ; and yet when these embers are 
stirred to the bottom, there are found some living gleads, 
which do but contain fire, and are apt to propagate it. Many 
a christian breast is like this hearth, no life of grace appear- 
ing there for the time, either to his own sense or to the 
apprehension of others. Whilst the season of temptation 
lasteth, all seems cold and dead ; yet still at the worst, there 
is a secret coal in their bosom, which, upon the gracious 
motion of the Almighty, doth manifest some remainders of 
that divine fire, as is easily raised to a perfect flame. Let no 
man, therefore, deject himself, or censure others, for the 
utter extinction of that spirit which doth but hide itself in 
the soul for a glorious advantage. — Ibid. 

St. Chrysostom, suffering under the Empress Eudocia, 
tells his friend Cynacus how he armed himself beforehand. 
I thought would she banish me, " The earth is the Lord's, 
and the fulness thereof." Take away my lands, " Naked 
came I into the world, and naked must I return." Will they 
stone me? I remembered Stephen. Behead me? John Baptist 
came into my mind, &c. Thus it should be with every one 
that intends to live and die comfortably ; they must, as we 
say, lay up something for a rainy day ; they must stock 
themselves with grace ; store up promises, and furnish them- 
selves with experience of God's loving-kindness to others, 
and themselves too, that so, when the evil day comes, they 
may have much good coming thereby. — Ibid. 

I grant it as true, that the sincere soul grows stronger ; 
but how ? Even as the tree grows higher and bigger, which 



GRACE. 



245 



we know meets with a fall of the leaf, and winter, that for a 
while intermits its growth. Thus the sincere soul may be 
put to a present stand by some temptation ; as Peter, who 
was far from growing stronger when he fell from professing 
to denying — from denying Christ to swearing and cursing ! 
Yet as the tree, when spring comes, revives and gains more 
in the summer than it loseth in the winter, so doth the sin- 
cere soul, as we see in Peter, whose grace, which was 
quenched for a while, came forth with such a force, that no 
cruelty from men could drive it in ever after. Shaking 
temptations end in settlement, according to the apostle's 
prayer, 1 Pet. v. 10. The God of all grace, after ye have 
suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle 
you. — Ibid. 

When we behold primroses and violets fairly to flourish, 
we conclude the dead of the winter is past, though as yet no 
roses or julyflowers appear, which long after lie hid in their 
leaves, or lurk in their roots ; but in due time will discover 
themselves. Thus, if some small buddings of grace do but 
appear in the soul, it is an argument of far greater growth ; 
if some signs be but above ground in sight, others are under 
ground in the heart ; and though the former started first, 
the other will follow in order ; it being plain that such a man 
is passed from death unto life, by this hopeful and happy 
spring of some signs in the heart. — Ibid. 

The faculties of the soul, to be preserved in a healthy 
state, must be kept in continual exercise. We see it in the 
human body, where, in the want of exercise, the circulation 
of the blood becomes languid, and its energies poor and 
enfeebled. We see it in the atmosphere, which, if suffered 
to stagnate from the want of healthy gales and storms, 
depresses and paralyses life. And we see it in rivers, where a 
stream only preserves its crystal clearness and purity by con- 
tinual running ; if its course be stopped, it will stagnate and 
putrefy. And in like manner the purity and healthiness of 
the soul is alone preserved by the constant exercise of habi- 
tual grace. 

Carnal men are apt to mistake presumption for faith, and 
think, the bolder they are in presuming without a promise, 



246 



GRACE. 



the stronger they are in believing. They mistake a fruitless 
sorrow for sin to be repentance. And because they do not 
sit down altogether quiet and contented under sin, but are in 
motion, they judge that they are going forwards. But let a 
man put himself in any part of the circumference of a circle, 
and continue to move in it, it is undeniable that he is in motion, 
but it is as clear that he makes no progress in advancing 
forwards. So these men sin and repent, and after repent- 
ance they sin ; and walking in a continual circle of repent- 
ings and relapsings, take not one step towards heaven. 
But real saints are often complaining of their want of grace, 
and condemning themselves for their not improving the 
means of grace. Their desires are ardent and ascending to 
perfection, and they judge of their defects by that measure. 
He that sails before the wind in a river, and sees men walk- 
ing on the shore, to his eye they seem to stand still, because 
of the swift motion of the boat. Thus the saints judge of 
their imperfections by the swiftness with which they are 
carried forward in their desires after complete holiness. Thus 
easily may we mistake in our judgment respecting the truth, 
or strength, of grace in our souls. 

In the world of nature there are shoals and quicksands 
through which the mariner has to steer, and there are 
storms and tempests to assail him in his course, and, worst of 
all, there is shipwreck, destruction, and death to overtake 
him ; but in the kingdom of grace there are indeed dangers 
through which we must pass, and many are the by-paths 
opening from the narrow and straight path in which we are 
walking; and many are the storms which fall upon us : but 
there is no shipwreck, no destruction and death ; for the 
Lord will never cease to go with us, " till he bring forth 
judgment unto victory." 

There is no greater delusion than the idea that all things 
are well with us, if we are in a state of grace. The inquiry 
should be, whether it is grace in operation, grace in living- 
exercise, and daily working in us. It is with grace as it is 
with fire — it may be in a half lifeless and inert state, and 
therefore useless. Fire is one of the most active agents in 
nature with which we are acquainted, You may see it 



HAPPINESS. 



247 



smouldering in the ashes, without any power to burn or emit 
any heat. Here, though there is undoubtedly fire in the 
embers, yet in this state it is profitable to no purpose. But 
let its dying embers be kindled into flame, and it can rend 
the living rocks, control the mightiest engines, and prove 
itself to be endowed with the most astonishing power. So 
grace, which is capable of the greatest things, may be in a 
dull and torpid state, and effect nothing ; and while in this 
state, the believer is weak as another man. Here is the 
presence of grace, but it is without its strength, and so far 
useless. But let him stir up the grace that is in him, and 
his soul shall be clothed with energies, and endued with a 
living power that is truly surprising. It is nature now 
rising out of her native feebleness, a living active thing 
exhibiting powers hitherto unknown to herself, and capa- 
ble of passing on to perfection till the believer shall be 
filled with all the fulness of God. 



happiness. 

If you were to see a man endeavouring all his life to 
satisfy his thirst by holding up an empty cup to his lips, you 
would certainly despise his ignorance ; but if you should see 
others of brighter parts, and finer understanding, ridicule 
the dull satisfaction of one cup, and think to satisfy their 
own thirst by a variety of golden and gilt empty cups, would 
you think that these were the wiser, or happier, or better 
employed for their parts ? Now this is all the difference you 
can see in the happiness of this life. The dull and heavy 
soul may be content with one empty appearance of happi- 
ness. But then let the wit, the great scholar, the fine 
genius, the great statesman, the polite gentleman, lay all 
their heads together, and they can only show you more and. 
various empty appearances of happiness ; give them all the 
world into their hands, let them cut and carve as they 
please, they can only make a greater variety of empty cups: 
for search as deep, and look as far as you will, there is no- 



248 



HAPPINESS. 



thing here to be found that is nobler and greater than high 
eating and drinking, than rich dress and applause and 
vanity ; unless you look for it in the wisdom and laws of 
religion. 

That misnamed happiness which the world pants to enjoy 
is no reality ; it leaves no strength and peace behind it, as 
religion does, but the reverse. It is not like the waters of 
the Nile which overflow the land of Egypt, and leave, when 
they are gone, the germs of beauty and fertility to bud and 
blossom, and cheer the heart of man, but the contrary ; it 
is as the stream which is daily polluted with the washings 
of poisonous minerals, sinking the spirits, and depositing 
the seeds of death and disease in the vitals of all those who 
drink of it. 

How can the religious man be happy, and still be called 
to suffer, and exposed to much misery ? In answer to this, 
I would observe, that the soul, like the body, is subject to 
two distinct kinds of suffering. If a man lies upon his bed, 
and feels in pain, this pain may arise from one of two 
causes ; either from what is outward and accidental, or from 
what is inward and indicative of disease. Should it proceed, 
for instance, from uneasiness of posture, or from any thing- 
hard or sharp-pointed, or any outward annoyance, he has 
only to rise, or shift his position, and all will be well. But 
if the pain originate in no such cause, he has then ascertained 
that his body is, more or less, distempered ; and that, till a 
more radical remedy be found, he will, in spite of change of 
place or posture, carry his pain along with him. So it is 
with the soul. It was once radically distempered. But in 
the soul of the religious man there is a healthy process 
going on, and a healing balm for every pain. The great 
physician cures all inward maladies. This moral soundness 
of spiritual health is the happiness which he both promises 
and gives to those who come unto him — the happiness which 
religion imparts. But, like the body in the soundest state, 
it is exposed to outward annoyances and afflictions. It is 
" born to trouble," against which its inward peace is no 
security. But with the irreligious man, the difference is, 
that in his case there is disease within ; and to whatever 



HAPPINESS. 



249 



regions the soul may travel, it will carry with it " the worm 
that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched." In the 
other case, the soul is daily becoming more healthful, and is 
in itself a, happy being. Its sufferings arise from accidental 
hindrances, and foreign causes ; and therefore, when it leaves 
the body, and passes into brighter regions, it will bid fare- 
well, for ever, to pain and sorrow. 

When man was made in the image of God, Happiness, 
one of the attendant angels which stand before the throne 
of God, was deputed to wait upon man, and be his constant 
companion. But when sin marred this beautiful image, 
and he lost his high nobility, Happiness, who could no longer 
behold her heavenly Father's image upon earth, sighed to 
return, and quitting man, ascended to her bright abode in 
heaven. Man, now wearied and distressed at the loss of his 
angelic companion, wandered about in quest of a friend to 
supply her place. He looked out anxiously on Mature, and 
saw her gay and cheerful — butXature assured him, in awful 
accents, she knew no bliss for man. He questioned Love, 
who appeared so bright and joyous in hope ; but she timidly 
shrank from the inquiry, while her eyes dropt fast with 
tears. He sought of Friendship, but she sighed and an- 
swered, Caprice, anxiety, and the fear of change, are ever 
with me. He followed after Vice, who boasted loudly, and 
promised great things ; but before she left him, the borrowed 
roses fell from her withered brow. He thought at last he 
should succeed if he found Virtue — but she assured him with 
tender sorrow that penitence was her rightful and proper 
name, and that the bliss he sought for was not in her power 
to bestow. Disappointed and wearied, he now in despair 
applied to Death, who, relaxing his forbidding aspect, smiled 
upon him, and said, " iS"o longer upon earth can Happiness 
be found. I am the friend of man, and the guide to Happi- 
ness : let the voice of him who died on the cross of Calvary 
bring man to me, and I am commissioned to conduct him 
into the presence of Happiness, who shall never leave nor 
forsake him through the countless ages of eternity. 



250 



HOPE. 



What more delicious than hope ? what more satisfactory 
than success ? That is like the pursuit of a flying enemy ; 
this like gathering the spoil : that like gathering the ripe 
corn ; this like the joy of harvest itself. Well-grounded 
hope confirms resolutions, and success quickens our dili- 
gence. 

A good hope, through grace, animates and gives life to 
action, and purifies as it goes ; like the highland stream that 
dashes from the rock, and purifies itself as it pursues its 
course to the ocean. 

The spring returns with its blossoms and flowers, its green 
foliage and blue sky. The voice of the singing birds are 
heard once more, and earth adorned as a bride looks forth 
rejoicing. The storms of winter have passed away, its 
coldness and desolation are felt no more. So the believer 
emerges out of all that was dark, and dreary, and chilling, 
with fears and apprehensions as to an eternal state of things, 
and a new world of light and gladness springs up to cheer 
and animate him. Hope in Christ is to the little world of 
the inner man what spring is to the external world of 
nature — an animating principle in perpetual operation to 
soften the present, if it be gloomy, and to gild the pros- 
pect before us with bright expectations of good things to 
come. — Light from the West. 

The expectation of the man who has his portion in this 
life is continually deteriorating ; for every hour brings him 
nearer to the loss of all his treasures. But " the good 
hope through grace" is always approaching its realities, 
and therefore grows with the lapse of time more valuable 
and more lively. As it is spiritual in its quality, and 
heavenly in its object, it does not depend on outward things, 
and is not affected with the decays of nature. Like the 
Glastonbury thorn, it blossoms in the depth of winter. The 
hope of the one is a treasure out at interest which is con- 



HEAVEN. 



251 



tinually augmenting ; that of the other resembles stock, 
the capital of which has been continually invaded, until the 
last pound is ready to be consumed. 



From justification arises our title to heaven ; from sancti- 
fication arises our meetness for it. A king's son is heir 
apparent to his father's crown. We will suppose the young 
prince to be educated with all the advantages, and to be 
possessor of all the attainments, that are necessary to consti- 
tute a complete monarch. His accomplishments, however 
great, do not entitle him to the kingdom ; they only 
qualify him for it : so the holiness and obedience of the 
saints are no part of that right on which their claim to 
glory is founded, or for which it is given ; but a part of that 
spiritual education, whereby they are fitted and made meet 
to inherit " the kingdom prepared for them from the foun- 
dation of the world." 

Though the mariner sees not the pole-star, yet the needle 
of the compass that points to it tells him which way he sails. 
Thus the heart that is touched with the loadstone of divine 
love, trembling with godly fear, and yet still looking towards 
God by fixed believing, points at the love of election, and 
tells the soul that its course is heavenward towards the 
haven of eternal rest. He that loves may he sure that he was 
loved first ; and he that chooses God for his delight and 
portion, may conclude confidently, that God hath " chosen" 
him to be one of those that shall enjoy him and be happy in 
him for ever : for that our love, and electing of him is but 
the return and repercussion of the beams of his love shining 
upon us. 

As a dead man cannot inherit an estate, no more can a 
dead soul (and every soul is spiritually dead until quick- 
ened, and born again of the Holy Ghost) inherit the king- 



252 



HEAVEN. 



dorn of God. Yet, sanctification and holiness of life do 
not constitute any part of our title to the heavenly inhe- 
ritance, any more than mere animal life entitles a man of 
fortune to the estate he enjoys : he could not, indeed, enjoy 
his estate if he did not live ; but his claim to his estate 
arises from some other quarter. In like manner, it is not 
our holiness that entitles us to heaven ; though no man can 
enter into heaven without holiness. God's gratuitous dona- 
tion, and Christ's meritorious righteousness, constitute our 
right to future glory ; while the Holy Ghost, by inspiring 
us with spiritual life, (of which spiritual life good works are 
the evidences and the actings,) puts us into a real capa- 
bility of fitness for that inheritance of endless happiness, 
which, otherwise, we could never, in the very nature of 
things, either possess or enjoy. 

As a man that comes into America, and sees the natives 
regard more a piece of glass, or an old knife, than a piece of 
gold, may think, Surely these people never heard of the 
worth of gold, or else they would not exchange it for toys ; 
so a man that looked only upon the lives of most men, and 
did not hear their contrary confessions, would think either 
these men never heard of heaven, or else they never heard 
of its excellency and glory : when, alas ! they hear of it till 
they are weary of hearing ; and it is offered them so com- 
monly, that they are tired with the tidings, and cry out as 
the Israelites, " Our soul is dried away, because there is 
nothing but this manna before our eyes." Numb. xi. 6. 
And as the Indians who live among the golden mines do 
little regard it, but are weary of the daily toil of getting it, 
when other nations will compass the world, and venture 
their lives, and sail through storms and waves to get it ; so 
we that live where the gospel groweth, where heaven i s 
urged upon us at our doors, and the manna falls upon our 
tents, do little regard it, and wish these mines of gold were 
further from us, that we might not be put upon the toil of 
getting it, when some that want it would be glad of it upon 
harder terms. 

How nimbly does that little lark mount up, singing to- 
wards heaven in a right line ! whereas the hawk, which is 



HEAVEN. 



253 



stronger of body and swifter of wing, towers up by many 
gradual compasses to his highest pitch . That bulk of body 
and length of wing hinder a direct ascent, and require the 
help both of air and scope to advance his flight ; while the 
small bird cuts the air without resistance, and needs no out- 
ward furtherance of her motion. It is no otherwise with the 
souls of men in flying up to their heaven. Some are hindered 
by those powers which would seem helps to their soaring up 
thither: great wit, deep judgment, quick apprehension, 
send about men, with no small labour, for the recovery of 
their own incumbrance ; while the good affections of plain 
and simple souls raise them up immediately to the fruition of 
God. Why should we be proud of that which may slacken 
our way to glory ? Why should we be disheartened with 
the small measure of that, the very want whereof may (as 
the heart may be affected) facilitate our way to happiness ? 

Heaven must be begun below in all those who shall enjoy 
its perfection above. Heaven is a place of character ; the 
full developement of those principles and dispositions which 
are received and cherished upon earth, by the knowledge of 
Jesus, and the teaching of his Spirit. No child on its first 
introduction to a school is placed in the highest class, but 
in one or other of the lower, where the first elements of a 
future education are imparted, and the necessary ground- 
work is laid for the more matured instructions which succes- 
sively follow : the one must precede the other ; there is an 
unalterable connexion between them : as much so, and as 
absolutely essential, as between the bud and blossom of a 
tree, and the fruit which is to follow ; or between the state 
of infancy and that of full-grown manhood ; the first of 
necessity goes before the other. As well, therefore, might 
we look for the state of manhood, without the previous stages 
of infancy, childhood, and youth ; as well might we expect 
to reach the fruit from any tree where no buds and blossoms 
were previously formed, as expect admission into heaven 
without being "created anew in Christ Jesus unto good 
works," and made to possess the tempers, learn the prin- 
ciples, and imbibe the dispositions, of its blessed inhabitants, 



254 



HEAVEN. 



while, like them, we seek our happiness from " that river of 
joy" which " waters the city of our God." 

As in seeking for a Deity man found the prototype in his 
own passions, when he had abandoned the one living and 
true God ; so in forming a heaven he collected the materials 
from the objects of his own fleshly delights. The elysium 
of the Greeks and Romans ; the hall of the Scandinavians ; 
the paradise of the Mahomedans ; the fantastic abode of the 
departed Hindoos, — are all adapted to their depraved appe- 
tites, and were suggested by their corrupt imaginations. 
Beyond the pleasures of a seraglio ; of a field of glory ; of 
a hall resounding with the shout of victory ; beyond the 
gratification of sense, man, when left to himself, never looked 
for the happiness which is to constitute his paradise. A 
heaven, made up of perfect knowledge and of perfect love, 
is a vision entirely and exclusively divine ; and which never 
beamed upon the human understanding till the splendid 
image came upon it from the word of God. The wheels of 
nature are not made to roll backward, everything presses 
on to eternity ; from the birth of time an impetuous torrent 
has set in, which bears all the sons of men towards that 
interminable ocean. Meanwhile heaven is attracting to 
itself whatever is congenial to its nature, is enriching itself 
by the spoils of earth, and collecting within its capacious 
bosom whatever is pure, permanent, and divine, leaving 
nothing for the last fire to consume but the objects and 
the slaves of concupiscence ; while everything which grace 
has prepared and beautified shall be gathered from the 
ruins of the world, to adorn the eternal city, " which hath 
no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it ; for 
the glory of God doth enlighten it, and the Lamb is the 
light thereof." Let us obey the voice that calls us thither ; 
let us seek the things that are above, and no longer cleave 
to a world which must perish, and which we must shortly 
quit. 

I have read of a gentleman who died very suddenly, and 
his jester ran to the other servants, and having told them 
that their master was dead, he with much gravity said, 



HEAVEN. 



255 



" And where is he gone ?" The servants replied, " Why, to 
heaven to be sure !"' " No," said the jester, " he is not 
gone to heaven, I am certain !" The servants with much 
warmth asked him how he knew that his master was not 
gone to heaven? The jester then replied, " Because heaven 
is a great way off, and I never knew my master take a long 
journey in his life, but he always talked of it some time be- 
forehand, and also made preparations for it; but I never 
heard him talk about heaven, nor ever saw him making 
preparation for death, and therefore I am sure he is not 
gone to heaven." — The Pulpit. 

In the way of trade, if a man go and buy a commodity of 
small value, he lays down ready money ; but if the price rise 
high, and come to a good round sum, then he doth but give 
something in earnest ; the great payment (it may be) comes 
six or twelve months after. So when men will bargain with 
God for their obedience, to have credit and esteem in the 
world, these are but poor trifling matters, and God gives 
them presently ; but because the covenant that is betwixt 
God and Christ, and so betwixt Christ and us, is about great 
matters, and God intends to reward his people with glorious 
things eternally in the heavens, we have but the first-fruits 
of them at present, and must not expect the fulness of them 
suddenly ; they are great things, and must be waited for 
with patience till they do come, and being once come, they 
will make amends for all our tarrying. — Spencer. 

It must, no doubt, contribute to the happiness of the saints 
in heaven, that though all agree in heart and mind, yet 
their intercourse will be abundantly enlivened by all 
which variety can contribute to the enjoyment of society. 
The infinite diversity of temper and disposition which good 
men exhibit here, will, it is reasonable to suppose, follow them 
beyond the grave. Nor amongst the sources of variety will 
that be the least interesting which arises from the different 
periods of life at which the several members of the human, 
family are called into eternity. The soul upon which this 
great change has past in the morning of its days, however 
it may advance in wisdom and grow in knowledge, may, 
nevertheless, in its eternal state, still retain the marks of the 



256 



HEAVEN. 



seed from which it sprung, and flourish in all the graces of 
innocence, and all the freshness of unfading youth. In the 
same manner, those who die in the prime and vigour of 
maturity, may have indelibly impressed upon their character 
the dignity and authority of that riper age ; while those 
who gently fall off in " a good old age," may equal, if not 
surpass, by the calm serenity of their light, the more dazzling 
brilliancy of the surrounding luminaries. 

Our past lives will, when we attain the perfection of our 
being, be present to us again. There are close analogies 
between the laws of duration and of space. And these may 
help us to illustrate the manner in which the several stages 
of our former existence may reappear. A traveller who 
sets out upon a line of road, sees, we will suppose, a given 
object before him as he advances ; he comes up with that 
object, and it is present ; he proceeds, and passes it, and sees 
it no more. But let the traveller be elevated into the air, 
or ascend a mountain, and the whole line of progress which, 
as he journeyed, was measured out in gradual succession, 
becomes all at once present to him again. So with respect 
to the passenger through time. While here below, he reached 
and passed his several stages one by one : but when ascended 
to his eternal state, he may look down and see the 
whole path of life before him. — Woodward. 

Here the saints differ in talents ; and even in heaven 
they shall differ in glory ; but the glory of each shall be 
perfect in itself, and every happy spirit shall possess as it 
can enjoy ; shall contain a felicity overflowing all, according 
to the capacity of each. So that while they differ in glory, 
they are alike and equal in enjoyment, each possessing as 
much as each can grasp. " There is one glory of the sun, 
and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the 
stars ; for one star differeth from another star in glory." 
No tulip-bed exhibits a richer assemblage of colours than 
the heavenly bodies, when seen through telescopes of the 
first order ; yet this variety, while each has its own 
splendour, and is perfect in its kind, adds to the grandeur 
and beauty of the whole scene. 

A man may see the utmost visible part of the earth and 



HEAVEN. 



257 



the horizon at once, but if he look on the earth that is near 
him, he cannot see the heavens at that time, much less the 
zenith. Our own riches, our present possessions, our near- 
est and dearest temporal good things, are the greatest 
averters of the mind from heaven. 

The evil attending the formation of habits which are 
opposed to our moral good is but little estimated. The 
highest and most important duties are sacrificed for the 
enjoyment of the moment. Every time the power of resist- 
ing these seductions is lessened : the things of eternity must 
give way for the trifles and gratifications of time. It is 
mentioned of a friend of Charles I. in the civil war of the 
parliament, that he had made up his mind to take horse and 
join the royal party, but for one circumstance, that he could 
not reconcile himself to the thought of being an hour or two 
less in bed than he had been accustomed in his own quiet 
home ; and he therefore, after duly reflecting on the impos- 
sibility of being both a good subject and a good sleeper, con- 
tented himself with remaining to enjoy his repose. Absurd 
as such an anecdote may seem, it states only what passes in- 
numerable times through the silent heart of those who are 
enslaved by their habits. In similar comparisons of the 
most important duties with the most petty but habitual plea- 
sures, how many more virtuous actions would have been 
performed on earth, if the performance of them had not 
been inconsistent with enjoyments, as insignificant in them- 
selves as an hour of unnecessary and perhaps hurtful 
slumber ! 

It was wont to be a trial, whether land belonged to Eng- 
land or Ireland, by putting in toads, or snakes, or any 
other venomous creature into it ; and if they lived there, it 
was concluded that the land belonged to England ; if they 
died, to Ireland. So if venomous lusts live in us, if sin reign 
in our mortal bodies, we belong to hell ; but if they die by 
mortification, if there be no life in them, then shall we be 
sure to set up our eternal rest in heaven, and have full pos- 
session of those mansions which Christ our elder brother hath 
prepared for us. — Spencer. 

The city and the street of the new Jerusalem, being 0 f 

s 



258 



HEAVEN. 



pure gold, as it were transparent glass, may be an emblem 
of the union in heaven of those excellencies which seem 
here to be incompatible. They will be splendid and durable 
as the purest gold, clear and transparent as the finest glass. 
In that happy world, the beauties and advantages which are 
here divided and incompatible, will unite and agree. Our 
glass is clear, but brittle ; our gold is shining and solid, 
but it is opaque, and discovers only a surface. And thus it 
is with our minds. The powers of the imagination are lively 
and extensive ; but transient and uncertain. The powers of 
the understanding are more solid and regular, but at the 
same time more slow and limited ; and confined to the out- 
side properties of the few objects around us : but when we 
arrive within the veil, the perfection of the glass and gold 
will be combined, and the imperfection of each will entirely 
cease. Then we shall know more than we can now imagine . 
The glass will be all gold, and then we shall apprehend 
truth in its relations and consequences, not, as at present, by 
that tedious and fallible process which we call reasoning, but 
by a single glance of thought, as the sight pierces in an 
instant through the largest transparent body. The gold 
will be all glass. 

Socrates told a lazy fellow, that would fain go up to the 
top of Olympus, but that it was so far off ; why, said he, 
walk but as far every day, as thou dost about thine own 
house, and in so many days thou shalt be sure to be at Olym- 
pus. Thus, let but a man employ every day so many 
serious thoughts upon the excellent glory of the life to 
come, as he now employeth daily on his necessary affairs in 
the world ; nay, as he loseth daily on vanities and imperti- 
nences, and his heart will be at heaven in a very short space. 
— Spencer. 

In heaven we cannot suppose the condition of any one 
saint to be wanting in the measure of its happiness. Such 
a supposition is opposed to the idea of that perfection to 
which all shall attain. Nevertheless, as with two luminous 
bodies, each may shine in perfection, though with a different 
splendour and intensity; so the image of God will shine 
with fuller orbed splendour in some than in others. In like 



HEAVEN. 



259 



manner, the little stream and the river may both fill their 
channel, while the one glides in simple beauty, and the other 
rolls its majestic waves attracting the eyes of all beholders. 
And so the spirits of the just made perfect shall all be heau- 
tiful> but some shall delight with the perfection of beauty. 

" Seek first the kingdom of God, and these things shall 
be added to you." But if you seek these things, it is to love 
them for themselves, and above the kingdom of God ; it is 
like a man that carries a piece of timber breadth- ways upon 
his back, and tries to enter a narrow gate with it, but there 
is no room for a man to get in with such an impediment 
upon his shoulders, It is not the gate which excludes him 
— but he thrusts himself out with his own improvidence ; it 
is a barrier of his own creating. 

The infamy of losing heaven we may in some sort declare, 
under the example of a mighty king, who, having no heir 
to succeed him in his kingdom, took up a beautiful boy at 
the church door, and nourished him as his son, and in his 
testament commanded, that if at ripe years his conditions 
were virtuous and suitable to his calling, he should be 
received as a lawful king, and seated on his royal throne ; 
but if he proved vicious and unfit for government, they 
should punish him with infamy and send him to the galleys. 
The kingdom obeyed his command, provided him excellent 
tutors ; but he became so untoward and ill inclined, that he 
would learn nothing, flung away his books, spent his time 
amongst other boys, in making houses of clay and other 
fooleries ; for which his governors chastised him, and 
advised him of what was fitting, and most imported him ; 
but all did no good, only when they reprehended him he 
would weep ; not because he repented, but because they 
hindered his sport, and the next day he did the same. The 
more he grew in age, the worse he became ; and although 
they informed him of the king's testament, and what 
behoved him, all was to no purpose ; until at last all being 
weary of his ill conditions, declared him unworthy to reign, 
despoiled him of his royal ornaments, and condemned him 
with infamy unto the galleys. What greater ignominy can 
. s 2 



260 



HEAVEN. 



there be than this, to lose a kingdom, and to be made a galley 
slave ? A more ignominious, and a more lamentable tragedy 
is that of a Christian condemned after his probation ; who 
was taken by God from the gates of death, with condition, 
that if he kept his commandments, he should reign in 
heaven, and if not, he should be condemned : but he, for- 
getting those obligations, without respect of his tutors, or 
ministers, who exhorted him, both by their doctrine and 
example, what was fitting for a child of God ; yet he, neither 
moved by their advice, nor the chastisements of heaven, by 
which God overthrew his vain intentions, and thwarted his 
unlawful pleasures, only lamented his temporal losses, and 
not his offences ; and at the time of his death, was sen- 
tenced to be deprived of the kingdom of heaven, and pre- 
cipitated into hell : what infamy can be greater than this of 
the condemned soul? 

We are not obliged always to be thinking on the king- 
dom of God ; but to have it frequently in our minds, and 
habitually to intend and design it, so as to make it the 
scope of all our endeavours and actions, and that every- 
thing we do be either directly and immediately in order to 
it, or some way or other subservient to this design, or how- 
ever not inconsistent with it. Like the term and end of a 
man's journey, towards which the traveller is continually 
tending, and hath it always habitually in his intention, though 
he doth not always think of it every step that he takes, 
and though he be not always directly advancing and mov- 
ing towards it, yet he never knowingly goes out of the way. 
And though he bait and lodge by the way, and does many 
other things which do not directly set him forward, yet they 
are all subservient to his journey, or in prosecution of it ; 
or at least no wilful deviations from it. Thus it should be 
with us, while we are sojourning in this world ; our fixed 
aim and design should be to get to heaven, and thither 
we should be continually tending in our desires and 
endeavours. 



HEART. 



26 J 



A smith that undertakes to make a key to open such a 
lock that is out of order, must of necessity first know all 
the wards, else he may make a key that will not fit; he may 
endeavour, but not be able, to turn the lock. Thus it is, 
that whereas there are in the heart of man so many windings, 
so many turnings, such a labyrinth, such a depth in it, 
that in the eye of human reason there's no possibility to find 
out the bottom thereof ; how then is it to be imagined that 
the most knowing, quick-sighted man should be able fully 
to persuade the heart ? He cannot, that's peculiar to God 
only ; he is that great Omnipresent, that only knows all the 
inwards, all the secret passages, all the cunning contri- 
vances, and the cross-wards of the heart : to him belongeth 
that especial key of David ; it is he that can best unlock 
the heart, answer all objections, turn all the wheels of the 
soul, suit and fit the heart with such arguments as shall be 
effectual to persuasion. — Spencer. 

Alexander, on a time, having many philosophers with 
him at a banquet, would needs have it put to the question, 
what was the greatest thing in the world. Some of them 
said, the hill Olympus, some the sun, some the earth, some 
one thing and some another ; but one of them said, that 
surely the heart of man must needs be the greatest, because 
that in a moment it passed through the whole world, heaven, 
earth, sea, and all. Such is the heart of every worldly- 
minded man, though, in the substance of it, such a bit as 
will hardly give a kite a breakfast, yet of that extent as to 
the desires thereof, that the whole world is not able to satisfy 
it. If an earthly-minded man should gain unto himself the 
whole world, and being placed in the middle of it, so that, 
if possible, he might at once view his purchase, he would, 
Alexander like, ask whether there were any more worlds, 
any more land, any more wealth, that he might grasp that 
into his hands also. — Ibid. 



•262 



HEART. 



Shall we compare the garden to the heart of man? the 
flowers to christian virtues and graces, the weeds to corrup- 
tions ? The weed springeth of itself, but the flower must be 
sown by the gardener, and tended by his care. Some 
flowers require more care than others ; they are brought 
from countries afar off, from brighter skies and more genial 
soils, and require all the vigilance and tenderness of the 
gardener, lest they be blighted by our colder winds, or 
starved by our ungenial ground. 

Sin is the weed that springeth of itself in the human heart ; 
" for out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adul- 
teries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies." But 
virtue and godliness must be planted there by the holy 
Spirit. Some virtues are of a more difficult growth than 
others ; of a more heavenly nature, and asking a more con- 
stant care ; such are spirituality of mind, resignation of will, 
rejoicing in tribulation, and most beautiful, most delicate, 
most rare of all, most shy in flowering, most easily blighted 
— humility. 

Christianity carries the heart in a just equipoise : when 
earthly things come, they come, they are welcomed without 
too much joy; and when they go, they part without tears. 
We may like these earthly favours ; we must take heed of 
being in love, with them; for love, of whatsoever kind it be, 
is not without the power of assimilation ; if we love the 
world, we cannot but be worldly-minded. Contrarily, if we 
love God, we are made partakers of the divine nature, and 
we are such as we affect. If we be Christians in earnest, 
certainly the inner room of our hearts, where is the holy of 
holies, is reserved for the Almighty; the outer courts may 
be for the common resort of lawful cares and desires, they 
may come and go ; but our God shall have his fixed habi- 
tation here for ever. 

The heart of an obdurate sinner may very properly be 
called his sepulchre, which by means of a long habit of sin 
is shut and closed up against grace, as it were by a hard and 
heavy stone, and in which there is nothing but darkness and 
corruption, It is a very great and extraordinary mercy 



HEART. 



263 



when the deliverer comes to this prison, where the light 
shines in this darkness, and holiness itself visits this cor- 
ruption. — The Portfolio. 

There are some soils so shallow, and wanting in mould, 
and have so little depth, that while they are suited to bring 
forth flowers, bear but an imperfect crop of fruit : so there 
is much ground in the hearts of many, which, while it can 
bring forth the glittering leaves of a showy profession, yet 
bears no good fruit, or very sparingly. 

As the virtue of a strong spirituous liquor evaporates by 
degrees in a bottle which is not closely stopped, in like 
manner the life and power of the Spirit insensibly vanishes 
away, if the heart is not "kept with all diligence." 

As a thing is said to be pure though it may have some 
dross cleaving to it, as is pure gold when it is digged out of 
the mine, though there be much dross in it ; and we say it 
is pure air though for a time there be fogs and mists within 
it ; and it is pure water though there may be some mud at 
the bottom ; a man may be said to have a pure heart though 
there be a cleaving of much dross to it. Holy men have a 
fountain of original corruption in them, and from this foun- 
tain sins arise continually, as the scum in the pot ; but as in 
wine, or honey, or water, though the scum arise, yet still it 
purifieth itself, and casts it out ; contrarily in men of impure 
hearts the scum ariseth, but it seeths it. Ezek. xxiv. 12. 
She wearied herself with lies, and her great scum went not 
forth out of her. Holy men have their scum arising in their 
hearts, as well as the wicked ; but here is the difference, 
wicked men's scum seeths in, and mingles together, but 
men of pure heart have a cleansing and purifying dispo- 
sition, that casts out whatever evil comes, though it be con- 
tinually rising ; though it be many times mired he still 
washeth himself again, he cannot endure it, he doth not, as 
the swine, delight in it. But notwithstanding this boiling 
out of evil he is a man of a pure heart ; yet may sin cleave 
to a man as dross doth to the silver, but it mingles not with 
the regenerate part, nor that mingles with it no more than 
oil and water do, which though they touch they do not 
mingle together. 



264 



HEART. 



The human heart is like a ship in the midst of the sea, 
which is exposed to the perils of the winds and the waves on 
every side, and made, as it were, their sport. For as the 
ship is suddenly assaulted, so trouble, and the fear of future 
evil, like a sudden tempest, assault and disarm our minds ; 
and then flow in cowardice of spirit, and sorrow of heart, 
which, like the waves, run over us and threaten to over- 
whelm us every moment. By-and-bye, again, the confidence 
inspired by prosperity carries us up to heaven in full sail ; 
and then, security under our present prospects dashes unex- 
pectedly our ship against a rock. These, I say, and the 
numberless other evils and perils of this life, tend to arouse 
and stir up the saints, and teach and bring them to sigh and 
groan from the recesses within ; to pour out their whole 
hearts, and cry with their whole souls unto heaven. 

Thy corrupt heart is like an ant's nest, on which, while 
the stone lieth, none of them appear ; but take off the stone, 
and stir them up but with the point of a straw, you will see 
what a swarm is there, and how lively they be. Just such a 
sight would thy heart afford thee, did the Lord but withdraw 
the restraint he has laid upon it, and suffer Satan to stir it 
up by temptation. 

If I wished to destroy an idol temple, I would not begin 
by stripping off some of its gew-gaw ornaments, but strike 
at once at the foundation. It is alike useless to endeavour 
to detach worldly men from the pleasures and vain amuse- 
ments with which they glorify their idol the world ; we 
must overthrow the strong foundation of nature's corrup- 
tions. 

You have a very tender and valuable plant, perhaps the 
gift of some deceased friend whom you loved while on earth, 
and whose memory you still cherish ; you water your little 
plant, and watch it daily through the summer months, as it 
blooms in your garden ; and as the winter approaches you 
say, " My plant is too tender to remain out of doors, it must 
be brought into the house." It is brought in, and placed 
by the window which admits a strong and blighting wind, 
but you cease to water it, to cut off the dead leaves, or to 
care for it, in any other way, because you say, " now it is 



HEART. 



265 



in the house, it needs no more care, the cold wind may blow 
over the little plant, but so long as it is not really out of 
doors it does not matter." I think common sense would 
predict that the little tender plant would not live long under 
such circumstances. So it is with those mistaken persons 
who think they need no longer " keep their hearts with all 
diligence," when they are professedly under the influence of 
godly companionship ; and if the little plant of faith there 
does not wither, it is because some kind friend, after a time, 
takes the pruning knife, and may -be has to cut away much 
that is useless and corrupt, till, after a long season of lan- 
guor bordering on decay, it at length revives and blossoms. 
The friend of sinners, he only who has power to give life 
to that little tender plant, and to place it in the heart of the 
believer ; " he purgeth it that it may bring forth more 
fruit." 

My parish, as well as my heart, very much resembles the 
garden of the sluggard ; and what is worse, I find that most 
of my desires for the melioration of both proceed either from 
pride, or vanity, or indolence. I look at the weeds which 
overspread my garden, and breathe out an earnest wish that 
they were eradicated. But why 1 What prompts the wish ? 
It may be that I walk out and say to myself, " In what fine 
order is my garden kept !" This is pride. Or it may be 
that my neighbours may look over the wall and say. " How 
finely your garden flourishes !" This is vanity. Or I may 
wish for the destruction of the weeds, because I am weary 
of pulling them up. This is indolence. Yet from such 
sources, I fear, do most of my desires for personal holiness, 
and for the progress of religion in my society, proceed. 

When a clock within is disordered, and the wheels out of 
frame, the hammer and bell must needs give an uncertain 
sound ; so when our hearts are inwardly disordered, and 
corrupted with worldliness and profaneness, our speech out- 
wardly accordeth with them. The doorkeeper said unto 
Peter, " Thou art surely a Galilean, thy speech bewrayeth 
thee." And whosoever he be that hath his mind taken up, 
and chiefly delighted, with the world's music, hath his tongue 
also tuned to the same key, and taketh his joy and comfort 



266 



HEART. 



in speaking of nothing else but the world and worldly 
things ; if the world be in his heart, it will break out at the 
lips. A worldly-minded man will proclaim the disorder 
and confusion within, and speak of little else but worldly 
things. — Spencer. 

Master Camden reports of one Redwald, king of the 
East Saxons, the first prince of this nation that was baptized, 
that in the same church he had one altar for the christian 
religion, another for that of the heathens. And many such 
false worshippers of God there are to be found amongst us, 
such as divide the rooms of their souls betwixt God and the 
devil, that swear by God and Malcan ; that sometimes pray, 
and sometimes curse, that halt betwixt God and Baal ; mere 
heteroclites in religion : but God cannot endure this divi- 
sion, he will not have thy threshold ; he will have all thy 
heart, he cares not for half of it, if the devil have the other. 
— Ibid. 

It is no matter what is the sign, though an angel, that 
hangs without, if the devil and sin dwell within. New 
trimmings upon an old garment will not make it new, only 
give it a new appearance ; and truly it is no good husbandry 
to bestow a great deal of cost in fining up an old suit, that 
will soon drop to tatters and rags, when a little more might 
purchase a new one that is lasting. And is it not better to 
labour to get a new heart, that all thou dost maybe accepted, 
and thou saved, than to lose all the pains thou takest in reli- 
gion, and thyself also for want of it 1 — Ibid. 

Indeed, by nature, man's heart is a very divided, broken 
thing, scattered and parcelled out, a piece to this creature, 
and a piece to that lust. One while this vanity hires him, 
(as Leah did Jacob of Rachel,) anon when he hath done some 
drudgery for that, he lets out himself to another : thus di- 
vided is man and his affections. Now the elect, whom God 
hath decreed to be vessels of honour, consecrated for his 
holy use and service, he throws into the fire of his word, that 
being there softened and melted, he may by his transforming 
Spirit cast them anew, as it were, into a holy oneness ; so 
that he who before was divided from God, and lost among 
the creatures, and his lusts, that shared him among them, 



HEART. 



267 



now, his heart is gathered into God from them all ; it looks 
with a single eye on God, and acts for him in all that he 
doth : if therefore thou wouldest know whether thy heart 
be sincere, inquire whether it be thus made anew. 

That is the pure metalled sword which bends this way, 
and that, way, but returns to its straightness again, and con- 
tinues not bent. So that man's heart is in the right state, 
and hath heaven's stamp upon it, which can stoop and bend 
to the lowest action of his worldly calling, but then returns 
to its fitness for communion with God, and his heart stands 
not bent to the creature, but in a direct line to God and his 
worship. 

The heart is untrusty, unruly, and obvious to be surprised. 
Untrusty, deceitful above all things ; therefore we must deal 
with it as with an untrusty and pilfering servant, and watch 
over it with a zealous and suspicious eye. It is an unruly 
thing, if it be once lost, a man cannot recover it again with- 
out much time and labour. For it is like unto a wild horse, 
if the bridle be once let go he will begone and not gotten 
again in haste, yea, it may be we shall be forced to spend as 
much time in recovering him as would have served to have 
despatched our whole journey : so if the bridle of watch- 
fulness be once let go, and our hearts let loose, they will not 
easily be regained ; it will ask no small time to temper and 
turn them again for the service of God. And it is conti- 
nually liable to be surprised ; like a city every moment 
liable both to inward commotion and outward assault. As 
those who keep a city, attempted or besieged by an enemy, 
have special care of the gates and posterns where the enemy 
may get in ; so must we in the guard of the heart watch 
especially over the gates and windows of the soul, the senses. 
And as those who keep aud defend a city make much of 
such as are faithful, trusty, and serviceable, and if any such 
come, will entertain and welcome them with all kindness, 
but one whom they suspect as a traitor, or the enemy's party, 
they presently cut short as soon as they discover him ; so 
must we make exceeding much of those good motions put 
into our heart by God's Spirit, however occasioned : these are 
our heart's friends, we must cherish, increase, and iimprove 



268 



HEART. 



them to the utmost with meditation, prayer, and practice. 
But, on the other hand, we must crush every thought that is 
inimical at its first rising. " Keep thy heart with all dili- 
gence ;" [Heb. above all keeping.] 

The poets feign that when Jupiter had made man, and 
was delighted with his own beauteous fabric, he asked Mo- 
urns what fault he could espy in that curious piece ? What 
out of square, or worthy blame? Momus commended the 
proportion, the complexion, the disposition of the linea- 
ments, the correspondence and dependence of the parts, 
and in a word, the symmetry and harmony of the whole ; 
he would see him go, and liked the motion ; he would hear 
him speak, and praised his voice and expression ; but at last 
he spied a fault, and asked Jupiter whereabout his heart lay. 
Jupiter told him, within a secret chamber, like a queen in 
her privy lodging, whither they that come must first pass 
the great chamber, and the presence, there being a court of 
guard forces and fortifications to save it, shadows to hide it, 
that it might not be visible. There, there is the fault, (saith 
Momus,) thou hast forgotten to make a window into this 
chamber, that men might look in and see what the heart is 
doing, and whether the recorder, the tongue, do agree with 
his meaning. Thus man is the masterpiece of God's crea- 
tion, exquisitely and wonderfully made, but his heart is close 
and deceitful above all things ; had he but a glass window 
in his heart, how would the black devices which are con- 
trived, appear palpably odious, how would the coals of 
festering malice be seen to blister the tongue and scald the 
lips of them that imagine mischief in their hearts : then it 
would be seen how they pack and shuffle, cut and deal too ; 
but it is a poor game to the innocent : in the mean time, let 
all such know that the privy chamber of the heart hath a 
window to God's, though not to men's nor angels' inspec- 
tion.— -Spencer. 



HOLINESS. 



269 



We find persons acquainted with the fundamental doc- 
trines of religion, and we are glad. But a year afterwards 
we converse with them again, and find them just the same. 
Two years elapse, and we come into contact with them 
again, but still no progress can be perceived, till at length 
the sight of them reminds us of a piece of wood-work carved 
in the form of a tree, rather than a living production of 
nature ; for there are no fresh shoots, nor any new foliage to 
be seen : on the contrary, the very same modes of speech, 
the same views and sentiments upon every point, and the 
same limited sphere of spiritual conception ; no enlarged 
expansion of the inward horizon ; not a single addition to 
the treasury of christian knowledge. 

When courtiers come down into the country, the common 
home-bred people possibly think their habits strange ; but 
they care not for that, it is the fashion at court. What need, 
then, have the godly to be so tender foreheaded, to be out of 
countenance because the world looks on holiness as a sin- 
gularity ? It is the only fashion in the highest court, yea, 
of the King of kings himself. 

The church, assailed by her enemies on every side, should 
unite, and put on her armour, remembering that our breast- 
plate is righteousness, in which we must shine before men, 
and conquer them — " the weapons of our warfare are not 
carnal." Thus, the armies of Rome, by dazzling the eyes of 
their opponents with the splendour of their polished breast- 
plates, often awed them to surrender without drawing a 
sword. 

In a believer there is an inclination and propensity to a 
godly life. God has created all creatures with an inclina- 
tion to their proper operations. Every created thing has a 
fitness and an aptitude for that use to which it serveth, the 
water to flow, the air to be carried to and fro. So the new 
creature has a tendency to those actions which are proper to 
its state ; as the sparks fly upwards, and the stone falleth 



270 



HOLINESS. 



downwards from an inclination of nature, so are their hearts 
bent to please God, and to serve him, and what they do 
therein they do with a kind of naturalness, because of this 
bent and inclination. The law is in their hearts. Ps. xl. 8. 
There is a purpose there. Acts xi. 23 ; see Exod. xxxy. 29. 
There is some weight and poise within their hearts to carry 
them towards God, and the duties that concern his glory 
and service. But an unregenerate man may act from a 
violent impression contrary to nature, as a stone moves 
upwards, or a bowl thrown with great strength where the 
natural bias is overruled. So a wicked man may do a good 
action or two, as Saul forced himself, and Herocl, but the 
bent and natural inclination is another way. 'Tis important 
to attend to the first principle of our motions, whether it be 
natural or violent, whether our spirit makes us willing, or 
we are acted on by something foreign. 

Hast thou seen the pure lake, smooth and unruffled : 
how clearly doth it reflect the bright heavens above, with 
every little fleecy cloud that floateth thereon ! Hast thou 
seen the same lake when ruffled by the wind ? Or hast thou 
disturbed the sleeping waters with a stone, so that circle 
after circle hath spread along upon the surface ? How was 
the bright picture, — the blue heaven, and the fleecy cloud, — 
bedimmed and broken ! That lake, methinks, is the emblem 
of the renewed soul, which, in the peaceful hours of retire- 
ment and prayer, hath something of a better heaven im- 
pressed upon it. Alas ! when ruffled by earthly passions, 
when disturbed by the business and vanity of the world, 
how is the fair vision broken, the fervour, and the^ divine 
light, and the holy sweetness gone ! My meditation of him 
shall be sweet : I will be glad in the Lord. Ps. civ. 34. 
My heart is inditing a good matter : I speak of the things 
which I have made touching the king : my tongue is the pen 
of a ready writer. Ps. xlv. 1 . I hate vain thoughts : but 
thy law do I love. Ps. cxix. 113. 

The progress of holiness is sometimes like the lengthen- 
ing of daylight, after the clays are past the shortest. The 
difference is for some time imperceptible, but still is real ; 
and in due season becomes undeniably visible. 



HOLINESS. 



271 



" Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my contem- 
plations on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, 
charming, serene, calm nature ; which brought an inexpres- 
sible purity, brightness, peacefulness, and ravishment to the 
soul. In other words, that it made the soul like a field or 
garden of God, with all manner of pleasant flowers and 
fruits ; all pleasant, delightful, and undisturbed ; enjoying a 
sweet calm, and the gentle vivifying beams of the sun. The 
soul of a true Christian, as I then wrote my meditations, 
appeared like such a little white flower as we see in the 
spring of the year : low, and humble on the ground, opening 
its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of the sun's glory ; 
rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rapture ; diffusing around a 
sweet fragrance ; standing peacefully and lovingly in the 
midst of other flowers round about ; all in like manner open- 
ing their bosoms to drink in the light of the sun. There 
was no part of creature holiness that I had so great a sense 
of its loveliness as humility, brokenness of heart, and poverty 
of spirit; and there was nothing that I so earnestly longed 
for. My heart panted after this, — to be before God, as in 
the dust ; that I might be as nothing, and that God might 
be all ; that I might become a little child." — J. Edwards. 

When the soul is, in good measure, freed from the rack- 
ings and tortures that naturally accompany the habitual 
contrariety of an ungovernable heart to a convinced judg- 
ment and conscience, it is no longer held in pain by such 
continual self-upbraidings ; " Thou art, and affectest to be, 
what thou knowest thou shouldest not ; and neither art, nor 
clost, nor canst, desire or endure to be, or do, what thou very 
well knowest thou shouldest :" in this case the soul is 
throughout disjointed, and continually grating upon itself. 
And the ease and pleasure which it finds by this happy 
change much resembles that which a man's body, being in 
such a case, feels when every dislocated bone is brought 
back, and well settled in its proper place and order again. 
Before this the man was in pain and continual disquietude. 
The body could not perform its proper functions, and in- 
stead of ease, aptness for motion, and pleasurable emotions, 
every turn and movement was forced, constrained, and con- 



272 



HOLINESS. 



trary to tlie graceful ease of nature. So great is also the 
difference of the soul again restored to health from its 
former disordered condition. 

When a small scion is grafted into a tree, a stream of sap 
and juice begins to flow from the stock into the branch 
which has been grafted in, till at length it shall blossom and 
bud, and bring forth fruit ; it partakes at once both of the 
root and fatness of the tree. Precisely as the sap flows 
from the stock into the branch which has been grafted in, 
so does one continued stream of fruitfulness flow from the 
Saviour to the souls of those who are really united to him, 
and who are branches abiding in him. Christ is made sanc- 
tification, 1 Cor. i. 30. — Frederic Trench. 

Sanctification is gradual, a mighty oak riseth out of an 
acorn — it is witli a Christian as it was with Christ, who sprung 
out of the dead stock of Jesse, out of David's family when 
at lowest, but he grew up higher than the heavens. Be 
careful to live under the influence of Christ the Sun of 
Rio-hteousness. If creation cannot be cold under the full 
shining beams of the sun, till the light and heat of the sun 
be extinguished, God will never put out a dim candle that 
was lighted at the Sun of Righteousness. Samson, being 
a Nazarite, when shaved, "the crown is fallen from his head, 
and woe unto him, for he hath sinned." Let us be careful 
to watch against fleshly lusts, and preserve our purity ; for 
all our glory is gone, and our defence departed from us, 
when the covenant of our separation to God as spiritual 
Nazarites is profaned. 

If a beam of the sun fall upon a looking-glass, it not only 
makes it glitter, but represents the very image of the sun 
in the glass ; but though it fall ever so strongly on a mud 
wall, though it enlighten, it does not leaves its image there : 
so saving light does not only irradiate, but transform and 
sanctify. 

What a treasure is a devoted mind ! Whatever was touched 
by the anointed priest became consecrated to the service of 
the sanctuary. Some drops of the precious anointing oil 
would perfume all it fell upon. Has not the Saviour 
touched my soul ? Have not I felt sweet constraining 



HOLINESS. 



273 



energy emanate from him to my whole nature ? May all 
perceive the fragrance of holiness going forth from me ! — 
East. 

The image of God, in the creature, is holiness. Power is 
his hand and arm. Omniscience his eye. Mercy his 
howels. Eternity his habitation and resting-place ; but 
holiness is his glorious beauty. This David desired to see. 
His justice is part of his holiness, whereby he reduces into 
order those things which are out of order. It is the crown 
of all his attributes ; the life of all his decrees ; the bright- 
ness of all his actions. 

The character of professing Christians ought to be such 
as to leave no doubt in the minds of any who witness it, as 
to the moral perfections of that being who has " formed 
them for himself, that they might show forth his praise." 
You should say to such as profess to be " in Christ Jesus" — 
to be " new creatures :" — " Do you bear, then, the impress 
of the Divine image ? Is it distinctly marked and visible 
in you ? Are the great features of your heavenly Father's 
character so clearly apparent, — the family likeness so pro- 
minent and well defined, — that your relation to him as his 
children cannot fail to be recognised and acknowledged ? 
0 remember of what consequence it is that no feature of it 
should be distorted :— that all should be in harmony with 
the portraiture drawn in the divine word. Remember, 
that everything about you that accords not with that por- 
traiture carries with it a reflection against the great head of 
the family. Everything unseemly, every spot of defilement, 
every word, and every action inconsistent with the holiness 
of Christian deportment, is a blot in the escutcheon of the 
" household of faith," and a dishonour to its divine Father 
and Lord. Think of the character of the Lord, of him 
whose people you profess to be, and who is " not ashamed 
to call you brethren." 

The watch is naught that goes only at first winding up, 
and stands all the day after; and so is that heart that de- 
sires not always to keep in spiritual motion. I confess 
there may be a great difference in the standing of two 
watches ; one from the very watch itself, because it hath 

T 



274 



HOLINESS. 



not the right make, and this will ever do so till altered ; 
another possibly is true work, only some dust clogs the 
wheels, or a fall hath a little battered it, which removed, it 
will go well again. And there is as great difference between 
the sincere soul and hypocrite in this case ; the sincere soul 
may be interrupted in its spiritual motion and christian 
course, but it is from some temptation that at present clogs 
him ; but he hath a new nature which inclines to a constant 
motion in holiness, and doth, upon removing the present im- 
pediment, return to its natural exercise of godliness ; but 
the hypocrite fails in the very constitution and frame of his 
spirit ; he hath not a principle of grace in him to keep him 
moving. Like an ill-made watch, he must first be taken all 
to pieces. 

It is not place, but the adaptation of our nature to the 
circumstances by which we are surrounded, that produces 
that harmony from which results satisfaction. If a man 
walks out amidst the beauties of a summer's landscape, he 
is refreshed with the universal verdure, and cheered with 
the glories of the sun lighting hill and dale, and the sur- 
rounding scenery — here are appropriate objects to administer 
delight to vision. So, when the other bodily senses find ma- 
terials corresponding with the exercise of their functions, 
nature is gratified. On the contrary, if a creature is totally 
removed out of its natural element, distress and pain must 
ensue, because every source and inlet for enjoyment is closed. 
There are senses and appetites, but no materials to ad- 
minister to their wants. It is precisely thus with the con- 
stitution of the mind. Its tastes and feelings are marked 
and defined, and have their precise limits. If pleasing ob- 
jects suited to them are present to call them into exercise, 
the effect of the union is the highest satisfaction — withdraw 
them, and you have the faculties of the soul paralysed for all 
enjoyment, from want of adaptation from the surrounding 
scene. In a word, there must be faculties to embrace, and 
objects to satisfy, before content and satisfaction can ensue. 
Well, then, might our Lord announce that " except a man 
be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of heaven." The 
soul only that is renewed, has the faculties of enjoyment, and 



HUMILITY. 



275 



happiness in the spiritual state ; what beauty is to the eye, 
or music to the ear, such is spirituality to the renewed 
soul ; and therefore the vital qualifications required in order 
to an admission into the glory of heaven, are not a mere 
arbitrary institution, but founded in the nature of things, and 
the unchangeable nature of God. Either God or the sinful 
soul must change its nature before there can be happiness. 
If there were any defect and irregularity in the architecture 
of the visible world, in the frame and order of its parts, it 
were less dishonourable than if there were no connexion 
between a holy life and blessedness: for the first would only 
reflect upon his wisdom and power, but the other would 
asperse his holiness and justice, the highest perfections of 
the Deity. 



J^umtlttg. 

Saints increase in humility as they draw nearer to heaven. 
" Unworthy to be called an apostle," said Paul, concerning 
himself, some years after his conversion. As he advanced 
still farther in years, he cried out, " Less than the least of 
all saints." A little before his martyrdom, his cry is, " The 
chief of sinners." 

The nettle mounteth on high ; while the violet shrouds 
itself under its own leaves, and is chiefly found out by its 
fragrancy. Let Christians be satisfied with the honour that 
cometh from God only. 

Generally speaking, those that have the most grace, and 
the greatest gifts, and are of the greatest usefulness, are the 
most humble, and think the most meanly of themselves. So 
those boughs and branches of trees which are most richly 
laden with fruit, bend downwards, and hang lowest. 

Many a poor man makes a bright Christian ; God keeps 
him humble that he may dwell in his heart, and that the 
beams of his grace may shine in his heart. See yon even- 
ing star, how bright it shines, how pure and steady are its 

t 2 



276 



HUMILITY. 



rays ; but look, it is lower in the heavens than those stars 
which sparkle with a restless twinkling in the higher region 
of the skies. God keeps you low, that you may shine 
bright. 

The lowliness of the Christian has nothing in it mean, 
low, or degrading. It is a lowliness born of glorious paren- 
tage, growing not like a sickly weed in a muddy pool from 
whence it derives its nourishment, but like some fresh and 
little herb upon the mountain's brow, unnoticed by the tra- 
veller who has gained the ascent, and yet a plant rejoicing 
in the light of heaven, cherished by its sunbeams and fresh 
and balmy airs, and daily nourished by its pure and shining 
dew. It has no enjoyment, or even existence, in low and 
degrading attachments, but it delights to lean meekly 
and confidently upon his love, "who dwelleth not only in the 
high and holy place, but with him also that is of a contrite 
and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to 
revive the heart of the contrite ones." 

Spectacles that are of an ancient sight, if the young go 
about to use them, they show all things less than they are ; 
but unto old men they present all things greater than they 
are. Such is the difference betwixt pride and humility, that 
pride is like the old man's spectacles, and makes things 
bigger than indeed they are ; but humility, like the specta- 
cles worn by young men, causeth everything to seem less 
than it is ; a proud man thinks no man better than himself, 
an humble none worse ; the one lifteth up himself on high, 
the other layeth his mouth in the dust. — Lament, iii. 29. — 
Spencer. 

Where do the rivers run that fertilise our soil — is it on 
the top of yonder hill? No! in the vales beneath. If you 
would have " the river whose streams make glad the city of 
our God" to run through your hearts, and enrich them to 
his glory, you must abide in the vale of humility. 

Lowliness of heart, and a sense of our own emptiness, is 
that which makes us always have recourse to our fountain, 
and keep in favour with our head, from whom we must 
receive fresh supplies of strength for doing any good, for 
bearing any evil, for resisting any temptation, for overcom- 



HUMILITY. 



277 



ing any enemy, for beginning, for continuing, for perfect- 
ing any duty. For though it be man's heart that does 
these things, yet it is by a foreign and impressed strength ; 
as it is iron that burns, but not by its own nature, which is 
cold, but by the heat which it has received from the fire. 
" It is not I, (says the apostle,) but the grace of God which 
was with me." 

A man upon the top of one hill may seem very near the 
top of another, and yet he must descend from the one 
before he can possibly reach the other. So a man on the 
mount of self-conceit or self-righteousness, may suppose 
himself as good as on the hill of God — a step, and he is 
there ; but he must descend, and passing the vale of humi- 
lity and self-renunciation, ascend the hill of salvation by 
faith in Christ Jesus, or he will never enter the New 
Jerusalem. 

Where there is little grace, there will ever be much of self- 
complacency mixed up with all our good works. We shall 
be in continual danger of self-elation, like the light bark 
which is tossed on the top of every wave ; but as we gain 
experience, humility will afford a true ballast for the soul. 
It is the little ear of corn, which we sometimes see in the 
wheat-field, which holdeth up its head straight and erect 
because it has little in it, while the heavy ear droppeth its 
head and hangeth downward. So the tree tosses aloft its 
light empty branches, but its boughs which are laden with 
fruit are bowed down. The Spirit of God indeed beareth 
witness to the reality of grace in the believer's heart, but 
suffereth him not to rest in his own grace ; there is so much 
at least of partial defect as to cause us to lie lower at the feet 
of Jesus, and lay our mouths in the dust. 

As portrayed by Christ, on entering his evangelical 
church, it is a little child to whom belief is natural, an 
emblem of candour, simplicity, and faith ; when hearing 
his word, it sits at his feet, and is all docility and attention ; 
in entering the presence of God it throws itself prostrate, 
or smites on its breast, and dares not lift up so much as an 
eye to heaven; when it is free to take the highest seat in 
the assembly, it voluntarily selects the West, and is taken by 



278 



HYPOCRISY. 



surprise if called up higher ; in the presence of superior 
excellence, it is praise and imitation ; associated with fellow- 
Christians, it is willing subordination, emulous of no distinc- 
tion, but that which arises from pre-eminent service : it 
declines to be called " master," and lays all its honours at 
the Saviour's feet ; and when at length he shall ascend his 
throne, and enumerate its godlike deeds, he describes it as 
filled with self-abasement, even there, and diffident of 
receiving his divine award. — Harris. 



There is sometimes, on trees and flowers, what florists call 
a false blossom. How many such do we see in the world of 
professing Christians ! 

Different members of the body have different offices ; 
and are, some, of greater, others of less importance, but 
they all belong to the body. Hypocrites are not real mem- 
bers, but excrescences of the church, like falling hair, or the 
parings of the nails. 

A very capital painter, in London, exhibited a piece re- 
presenting a friar habited in his canonicals. View the paint- 
ing at a distance, and you would think the friar to be in a 
praying attitude : his hands are clasped together, and held 
horizontally to his breast ; his eyes meekly demissed, like 
those of the publican in the gospel : and the good man ap- 
pears to be quite absorbed in humble adoration and devout 
recollection. But take a nearer survey, and the deception 
vanishes ; the book which seemed to lie before him, is dis- 
covered to be a punchbowl, into which the wretch is, all 
the while, in reality only squeezing a lemon. How lively a 
representation of an hypocrite ! 

The emperor Frederick the Third, who when one said 
unto him, he would go and find some place where no hypo- 
crites inhabited; he told him, " He must travel there far 



HYPOCRISY. 



279 



enough, beyond the Sauromatse, or the Frozen Ocean ; and 
yet when he came there, he should find an hypocrite, if he 
found himself there." And it is true that every man is an 
hypocrite. Hypocrisy is a lesson that every man readily 
takes out ; it continues with age, it appears with infancy, the 
wise and learned practise it, the duller and more rude attain 
unto it. All are not fit for the wars ; learning must have 
the picked and choicest wits ; arts must have leisure and 
pains ; but all sorts are apt enough, and thrive in the mys- 
tery of dissimulation; the whole throng of mankind, the 
whole world, is but a shop of counterfeit wares, a theatre of 
hypocritical disguises. Grace is the only antidote. — 
Spencer. 

As a man can have very small comfort, to be thought by 
the world to be rich, because he hath a shop full of wares 
and driveth a great trade, when, in the mean time, he 
knows, poor man, that he is worse than nothing, and 
oweth much more than he is worth ; or because he maketh 
a counterfeit show of rich wares, when he has nothing but 
empty boxes with false inscriptions : so is it with all those 
that seem to be religious, that make a goodly show of god- 
liness, yet in the mean time are very bankrupts in grace, and 
like one of Solomon's fools that boast themselves of great 
riches, when they are indeed exceeding poor. Why do they 
so ? What get they by it 1 What comfort reap they by it 1 
Rone at all, their consciences bearing them witness that they 
are none such as the world takes them to be. 

There can be no difference betwixt a gliding star and the 
rest ; the light seems alike, both while it stood and when it 
fell ; but being once fallen, it is known to be no other than 
a base shiny meteor ; and now a man may tread upon that 
with his foot, which before his eye admired: had it been a 
star, it had still and ever shined; now the very fall argues 
it a false apparition. Thus our charity doth, and must, mis- 
lead us in our spiritual judgments ; if we see men exalted in 
their christian profession, shining with appearances and out- 
sides of grace, we may not think them other than stars in 
this lower firmament ; but if they fall from their holy station, 
and embrace this present world, whether in judgment or 



280 



HYPOCRISY. 



practice, renouncing the truth and power of godliness, we 
may then conclude that they never had any true light in 
them, and were no other than a glittering composition of 
pride and hypocrisy.— Spencer. 

There are a sort of men that call themselves Christians, 
profess that they know God, and that their hope is in heaven; 
but no sooner doth any vanity come in the way, any tem- 
poral commodity present itself, but their hearts quickly 
betray where their treasure is. Just like the juggler's ape of 
Alexandria, which being attired like a reasonable creature, 
and dancing curiously to his master's instrument, deceived all 
the spectators, until one, spying the fraud, threw a handful 
of dates upon the stage, which the ape no sooner espied, but 
he tore all his vizard, and fell to his victuals, to the scorn of 
his master ; which gave an occasion to the proverb, an ape 
is an ape, though he be clad ever so gaily. And most sure it is, 
that an hypocrite will at last show himself an hypocrite, 
for all his specious show and goodly pretences. — Ibid. 

Counterfeit diamonds may sparkle and glisten, and make 
a great show for some time, but their lustre will not last 
long ; an apple, if it be rotten at the core, though it has a 
fair and shining outside, yet rottenness will not stay long, 
but will taint the outside also. It is the nature of things 
unsound, that the corruption stays not where it began, but 
putrefieth and corrupteth more and more till all be alike. 
Thus it is that sincerity tells the Christian, nothing counter- 
feit will last long, and that man that hath a rotten heart to- 
wards God, his want of sincerity will in time be discovered, 
and his outside be made as rotten as his inside. Fraud and 
guile cannot go long unspied, dissembling will not always 
be dissembled, and hypocrisy will discover itself in the end. 
— Ibid. 

If God himself find not out the hypocrite, he will not be- 
wray himself. I cannot set out the different disposition of 
the sincere and false heart in this matter, better than by the 
like in a mercenary servant, and a child : when a servant 
(except it be one of a thousand) breaks a glass, or spoils any 
of his master's goods, all his care is to hide it from his mas- 
ter, and therefore he throws the pieces away into some dark 



HYPOCRISY. 



281 



hole or corner, where he thinks they shall never be found ; 
and now he is not troubled for the wrong he hath done his 
master, but glad that he hath handled the matter so as 
not to be discovered. Thus the hypocrite would count him- 
self a happy man, could he but lay his sin out of God's sight; 
it is not the treason that he dislikes, but fears to be known 
that he is a traitor ; and therefore, though it be as impossi- 
ble to blind the eye of the Almighty, as with our hand to 
cover the face of the sun, that it should not shine, yet the 
hypocrite will attempt it. We find a woe pronounced 
against such. (Isa. xxxi. 15.) " Woe to them that dig deep to 
hide their counsel from the Lord." 

Truly the hypocrite doth more hurt when he is disco- 
vered, which is the death of his profession, than when he 
seemed to be alive. The wicked worldlings that are not 
long seeking a staff to beat the saints with, have now one 
put into their hands by the hypocrite. O how they can run 
division upon this harsh note, and besmear the face of all 
professors with the dirt they see upon one false brother's 
coat ; as if they could take the length of all their feet by 
the measure of one hypocrite. Hence comes such language 
as this — there is not one better than another : indeed this is 
very absurd reasoning, as if one should say, no good coin 
were current, and right silver, because now and then a brass 
shilling is found among the rest. But this language fits the 
mouth of an ungodly world ; and woe be to the man that 
makes these arrows for them by his hypocrisy which they 
shoot against the saints. Better he had been thrown with 
a millstone about his neck into the sea, than have lived to 
have given such an occasion to the enemy to blaspheme. 

Fevers are counted malignant according to the degree of 
putrefaction that is in them. Hypocrisy is the very putre- 
faction and rottenness of the heart ; the more of this putrid 
stuff there is in any sin, the more malignant it is. David 
speaks of the iniquity of his sin. (Psa. xxxii. 5.) " I ac- 
knowledge my sin unto thee, and my iniquity have I not 
hid ; I said I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, 
and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." 

Lusts (as to the actings, I mean) are like agues ; the fit is 



282 



HYPOCRISY. 



not always on, and yet the man not rid of his disease ; and 
some men's lusts, like some agues, have not such quick 
returns as others. The river doth not move always one 
way; now 'tis coming, anon falling water; and though 
it doth not rise when it falls, yet it hath not lost its other 
motion. Now the tide of lust is up, anon 'tis down, and the 
man recoils, and seems to run from it, but it returns again 
upon him. Who would have thought to have seen Pharaoh 
in his mad fit again, that should have been with him in his 
good mode, when he bid Moses and the people go ? But, 
alas ! the man was not altered; thus, may be, when a strong 
occasion comes, this (like an easterly wind to some of our 
ports) will bring in the tide of thy lusts so strongly, that 
thy soul, that seemed so clear of thy lust as the naked sands 
are of water, will be in a few moments covered, and as deep 
under their waves as ever. But the longer the banks have 
held the better ; yet shouldest thou never more be drunk as 
to the outward fulfilling of the lust, yet this is not enough 
to clear thee from being a hypocrite. 

Hypocrisy often takes up her lodging next door to since- 
rity, and so she passes unfound, the soul not suspecting hell 
can be so near heaven. And as hypocrisy, so is sincerity 
hard to be discovered ; this grace often lies low in the heart, 
(like the sweet violet in some valley, or near some brook,) 
hid with thorns and nettles, — infirmities I mean : so that 
there requires both care and wisdom, that we neither let 
the weed of hypocrisy stand, nor pluck up the herb of 
grace in its stead. 

Hypocrites make a great business about small matters, 
and in the mean time neglect weighty duties. They are 
careful to pay the tithe of mint, and omit the weightier 
matters. Like one who comes into a shop to make a very 
small purchase, and steals a costly article — a penny worth 
to steal a pound's worth ; or is punctual in paying a small 
debt, that he may get deeper into our books, and cheat us 
of a greater sum ; comply in circumstances and terms which 
yet must have their place, but make no conscience of the 
greater. 

The bat, like the woman with the adulterous eye, watcheth 



HYPOCRISY. 



283 



for the twilight ; Prov. vii. 9 ; such are all hermaphrodite 
Christians, religious neuters who love the twilight of truth 
hetter than the moonlight, whose religion may be very 
well declined with the article (hoc), for it is of the neuter 
gender ; not much unlike him (in Pliny) whose picture was 
so ambiguously drawn by Polygnotus Thasius, a cunning 
painter, that it was doubted whether he had painted him 
climbing upward or going downward with the shield. And 
so slily do these antiquaries carry their shield of faith, as the 
apostle calls it, Eph. vi., that it justly may be doubted 
whether it be to defend us or our adversaries. They have 
one foot within the gates of Sion, another within the gates 
of Babylon ; one within the church of England, another in 
the open common of dissent ; one wing to fly to us, another 
to fly from us, upon the least advantage that may be. — 
Spfncer. 

There is mention made of a beast, called by the best 
translators chamois, by others camel-leopard, a kind of camel 
that hath a horse's neck, an ox's foot, a camel's head, and 
is spotted like a panther, or a leopard. Just such are all 
hypocrites ; they have many shapes wherein to act the 
part of their deep dissimulation. If you look upon their 
devotion, they appear to be saints ; in their dealings you 
shall find them devils ; oracles in their discourse, snares at 
the board ; heavy censurers of others for slight faults, 
boasters of their own goodness ; the beating of whose pulse 
in matters of piety is unequal ; in public actions, hard, strong, 
and quick ; in private matters, weak, soft, and dull ; shrinking 
in persecution, for painted faces cannot endure to come nigh 
the fire. — Ibid. 

The griffin in the fable, when the battle was to be fought 
betwixt the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, would 
partake of neither side, but stood neutral until he could 
perceive which side did get the best of the clay ; and there- 
fore showed his fore part like a fowl unto the birds, and his 
hinder part like a four-footed beast unto the beasts, thereby 
to gull them both ; but his deceit being perceived of both, 
he was hated and rejected of both, as unworthy to be trusted on 
either side. Thus it fares with the hypocrite, who, being 



284 



HYPOCRISY. 



desirous to serve two masters, and to retain the favour both 
of God and the world, the devil hates him because he re- 
taineth unto Christ ; and Christ hates him much more, 
because he doth but only retain unto him. The world can- 
not abide him because he professeth godliness ; and God can 
worse abide him, because he doth but profess it : neither of 
them doth love him, because he hath been true to neither, nor 
yet indeed unto himself, but hath betrayed Christ for the 
world's sake, and the world for Christ's sake, and himself 
for sin and Satan's sake. — Spencer. 

A poisonous weed may grow as much as the hyssop or 
rosemary ; the poppy in the field as the corn ; the crab as 
the pear-main : but the one hath a harsh sour taste, the 
other mellows as it grows. Thus an hypocrite may grow in 
outward dimensions as much as a child of God. He may 
pray as much, profess as much, but he grows only in mag- 
nitude, he brings forth sour grapes, his duties are leavened 
with pride. The other ripens as he grows ; he grows in love, 
humility, faith, which do mellow and sweeten his duties, 
and make them come off with a better relish. — Ibid. 

'Tis the hypocrite that stints himself in the things of God. 
A little knowledge he would have, that may help him to 
discourse of religion among the religious ; and for more, he 
leaves it as more fitting for the preacher than himself. 
Some outward formalities he likes, and makes use of in pro- 
fession, as attendance on public ordinances ; and sins which 
would be an offence among his neighbours he forbears ; 
but as for pressing into more inward and nearer communion 
with God in ordinances — labouring to get his heart more 
spiritual— the whole body of sin more and more mortified — 
this was never his design. Like some flighty tradesman 
that never durst look so high as to think of being rich, 
but thinks it well enough if he can but hold his shop-doors 
open, and keep himself out of the jail, though with a thou- 
sand shifting tricks. 



IGNORANCE. 



285 



Eporame. 

Darkness is the proper image and metaphor, by which to 
represent that mental ignorance and delusion under which 
so many of our species labour. For at midnight all that is 
fair and beautiful in nature is concealed. There are fields 
and forests, there are brooks and fountains, there are rivers 
and valleys, but gloom and confusion rest upon all this love- 
liness. And, in like manner, as long as a man continues in 
moral darkness, there is a veil, and there is confusion upon 
God, and Christ, and heaven, and eternity, and christian 
privileges, and the objects of faith ; these, bright and glo- 
rious in their radiance to one who enjoys " the marvellous 
light," are hid from his eyes. 

You have, mayhap, heard of the covetous man that hugged 
himself in the many bags of gold that he had, but never 
opened them, nor used them : when the thief took away his 
gold, and left his bags full of pebbles in their room, he was 
as happy as when he had the gold, for he looked not of one 
or the other. And, verily, an ignorant person is, in a 
manner, no better of truth, than of error, of his side ; both 
are alike to him, all one to a blind man. 

The people of Siena, having wilfully rebelled against 
Charles the Fifth, their emperor, sent their ambassador to 
excuse it, who, when he could find no other excuse, thought 
in a jest to put it off thus, " What," saith he, " shall not we 
of Siena be excused being known to be fools ?". To whom the 
emperor's agent replied, " Even that shall excuse you, but 
upon the condition which is fit for fools ; that is, to be kept 
and bound in chains." Thus shall it be with those that sit 
under plentiful means of grace, rich gospel dispensations, 
so that it is but opening the casements of their hearts, and 
the light of God's countenance will fully shine upon them ; 
yet remain unfruitful, barren, empty, sapless, lifeless Chris- 
tians, and think that ignorance shall at last excuse them. — 
Spencer. 



286 



IMAGE OF GOD. 



If a inan should bind his son apprentice to some science 
or occupation, and when he had served his time should be to 
seek of his trade, and be never a whit the more his craftsmaster 
in the ending- of his years than he was at the beginning, he 
would think he had lost his time, and complain of the injury 
of the master, or the carelessness of the servant. Or, if a 
father should put his son to school, and he always should 
continue on the lowest form, and never get higher, we 
should judge either great negligence in the master, or in the 
scholar. Behold such apprentices, or such scholars, are 
most of us ! The church of God is the school of Christ, 
and the best place to learn the science of all sciences. Now 
if we have many of us lived long therein, some of us twenty, 
some thirty, some forty, some fifty years, &c, and some 
longer, and we no wiser than a child of seven, were it not a 
great shame for us ? what, no forwarder in religion than so ? 
And may we not be condemned of great negligence in the 
matters of our salvation ? — Spencer. 



Emage of €jq&. 

The mind of a natural man is darkened and disturbed bv 
passion, and, except some occasional feelings of terror, gives 
no indication of the existence of the Deity. It is like the 
ocean lying under a threatening sky, and ruffled with the 
wind, which gives no distinct reflection of the lights of the 
heavens, yet catches and flashes back an occasional gleam, 
which indicates their existence. When the soul is restored 
to the favour of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, it is as 
when God says to the sea, " Peace, be still," and immediately 
its fury subsides, and its heaving billows begin to rock them- 
selves to rest, wmile the clouds gradually disperse, and the 
sun shines out upon it, and its reflections become more dis- 
tinct and more general, and the whole scene assumes an air 
of greater cheerfulness. But when the soul shall be for 



IMAGE OF GOD. 



287 



ever delivered from the influence of all agitating passions, 
and shall be brought into the presence of God, it will be as 
a calm expanse of water lying under a serene sky, with the 
sun beaming full upon it, which then gleams and sparkles 
with a brightness that is overpowering to human vision. 
Then every feature in the majestic and lovely character of 
God will have its respondent reflection on the souls of 
his people : and as the untroubled ocean reflects in succes- 
sion the various exhibitions of the works of God, presented 
by a revolving and perpetually changing sky, so their souls 
will be the subjects of ever-varying affections, excited by a 
continued succession of new and wonderful displays of the 
character and attributes of the Deity. 

In my travels through Syria, on a mountainous ridge my 
attention was suddenly arrested with a magnificent grove of 
trees, of the cedar species. They were evidently the growth 
of many ages, and had obtained the perfection of beauty and 
grandeur. As I descended into the vale, I beheld a number 
of other trees stunted in their growth, and as remarkable for 
their meanness as the former were for their magnificence. 
The guide assured me they were of the same species. I 
thought it impossible, not a trace of resemblance could I 
find in them ; but he assured me that they had been planted 
by the agency of the winds, and had fallen on that spot. 
We had not proceeded very far before another group pre- 
sented itself. These had been planted by the hand of man, 
and carefully attended to as they grew up. And on examin- 
ing them, I had no difficulty in discovering the family 
likeness to the first grove of trees ; they were giving promise 
of great beauty, and seemed to speak, that if ages were 
allowed for them to grow up, they would prove no mean 
rivals of their parent stock. This appears to be a remark- 
able emblem of the children of fallen Adam. They were 
" planted a noble vine, but how are they turned into the 
degenerate plant of a strange vine !" Like the scattered 
trees in the vale, they are stunted in their growth, mean, 
despicable, and useless, having lost all resemblance to their 
parent stock. Instead of the image of God, they have the 



288 



IMAGE OF GOD. 



likeness of him whose children they are. And like those 
trees where there is no friendly hand to^ultivate them, they 
w r ill continue for ever in their degenerate and ruined state. 
But there is also another class, like the newly planted grove, 
who are brought under cultivation, and under the care and 
watchfulness of the good husbandman their heavenly Father. 
These, though still immeasurably inferior to the noble stock 
from which they were originally taken, are yet again bear- 
ing evident marks of their parentage, their high and heaven- 
ly original. Every year the family likeness appears more 
evident and conspicuous, and as " trees of the Lord," " the 
planting of his right hand," they have the promise that 
" they shall cast forth their roots as Lebanon ; their branches 
shall spread, and their beauty shall be as the olive tree, and 
their smell as Lebanon." 

The heathens had a notion that the gods would not like 
the service and sacrifice of any but such as were like them- 
selves. And therefore to the sacrifice of Hercules none 
were to be admitted that were dwarfs. To the sacrifice of 
Bacchus, a merry god, none that were sad and pensive ; 
as not suiting their genius. An excellent truth may be 
drawn from their folly — he that would like and please God 
must be like God. 

" I shall be satisfied," &c. The likeness " after the image 
of him that created him" must be restored, that man may be 
once more "satisfied." At present the believer is like the 
marble in the hands of the sculptor, but though day by day 
he may give fresh touches, and work the marble into greater 
emulation of the original, the resemblance will be far from 
complete until death. Each fresh degree of likeness is a 
fresh advance towards satisfaction. It must then be that 
when every feature is moulded into similitude, when all 
traces of feebleness and depravity are swept away for ever, 
the statue breathes, and the picture burns with Deity : it 
must be that then we "shall be filled." We shall look on 
the descending Mediator, and, as though the ardent gaze drew 
down celestial fire, we shall seem instantly to pass through 
the refiner's furnace, and leaving behind all the dishonour 



IMAGE OF GOD. 



289 



of the grave, and all the dross of corruptible humanity, 
spring upwards, an ethereal, rapid, glowing thing, Christ's 
image extracted by Christ's lustres. — Melvil. 

The fluid which is about to crystallize does not more cer- 
tainly assume the form of the crystal inserted into it, than 
believers modify and accelerate the formation of their 
character by associating in christian fellowship, and all 
assimilate to Christ, their common type and centre : accord- 
ing to his prayer, they become " one" in him. * , 

In reference to moral and religious reform, the work must 
proceed step by step. You may fly in a balloon swiftly 
through the air, or you may travel rapidly by steam, or by 
railroads, but in morals and religion you must be content to 
proceed gradually. Deep-rooted evils, profligate and aban- 
doned habits, are not to be eradicated in a moment, nor are 
excellent characters to be thrown off instanter as a piece of 
work from a loom, or from the wheel of a machine. The 
restoration of God's image rather resembles the growing 
likeness to its beautiful original in the canvass of the artist. 
At first the outline, and slowly the form and features, of the 
human face divine appear, though with some confusion ; 
gradually they rise to more distinctness and precision, and 
the likeness stands confest. So the Divine Artist, the Holy 
Spirit, restores the deformed and misshapen soul, and succes- 
sively imparts to it every moral beauty and perfection of God ; 
and the soul is once more confessedly like God " in know- 
ledge, in righteousness, and true holiness." 

" We are changed into the same image." Some people 
sit for their picture, but the painter cannot put life into the 
figure which he draws upon the canvass. It is a dead repre- 
sentation. But a parent begets a living representation of 
himself in his son, and Christ draws a living representation 
of himself on the soul of the believer. 

There is an integral perfection of holiness, that is, an entire 
conjugation of all those sanctifying graces of which the 
image of God consists. The new creature in its forming is 
not like the effects of art, but the living productions of 
nature. A sculptor, in making a statue of marble, finishes 
the head when the other part is but rude stone. But all 

u 



290 



INFIRMITIES. 



the parts of a child in the womb are gradually formed toge- 
ther till the body is complete. The Holy Spirit, in renewing 
a man, infuses a universal habit of holiness, that is compre- 
hensive of all the variety of graces to be exercised in the life 
of a Christian. As the corrupt nature, styled " the old 
man," is complete in his earthly members, all the lusts of 
the flesh ; thus the divine nature, styled "the new man," is com- 
plete in all spiritual graces, and inclines and enables the sanc- 
tified to do every good work. They are mixed in their exercise 
without confusion : as in a chorus, the variety of the voices is 
harmonious and conspiring : spiritual graces, according to the 
degrees of their perfection, such is the degree of their union. 

If you take a highly polished mirror, it will reflect the 
perfect image of the object presented to it; but if you 
strike a violent blow, and dash that mirror into a hundred 
pieces, it will no longer present the object in its upright 
and perfect form, but in a thousand grotesque and dis- 
cordant figures ; it will be impossible to gather any resem- 
blance to the figure it before reflected with perfect truth and 
accuracy. So the divine, but fallen soul once reflected the 
perfect image of God, though in miniature, for "the beauty 
of the Lord its God was upon it." Sin, in the hand of 
Satan, has struck it a tremendous blow, and dashed its per- 
fect form into a hundred pieces, and now, instead of the 
beautiful image of God, it reflects the likeness of a hundred 
unseemly discordant passions, all the hideous deformities of 
the monster Sin, who is incessantly employed in marring the 
beauteous workmanship of God. There is, however, this 
difference, no cunning artificer could ever mend the glass, 
and make it again a reflecting mirror ; but when the Divine 
Architect, who " makes all things new," speaks the word, 
the restored soul, now made a new creature, again reflects 
its Maker's image. 



Mrmmes. 



Venus, though so justly admired for her beauty, and cele- 
brated for her lustre, still has her dark side. When this is 



INFIRMITIES. 



291 



turned towards our earth, herrays are no longer beheld, and 
she herself becomes invisible. As each believer, shine he 
ever so brightly, is at present sanctified but in part, need we 
wonder if, on some occasions, the splendour of his gifts and the 
radiancy of his graces suffer a temporary eclipse ? At such 
times let our candour and forbearance have their perfect work. 
After a certain period, Venus will emerge from the shade, 
and beam forth in all the loveliness of her usual lustre ; and 
when the declining saint has his appointed time in darkness, 
the Lord will again be a light unto him. Happy is that 
benighted soul, whose faith (for it is the peculiar business 
of faith's eye to see in the dark) can pierce the gloom ; anti- 
cipate the return of day ; and long for a final proximation 
to the Sun of Righteousness, in that world of glory, where 
no more cloud nor darkness shall obscure our view, tarnish 
our graces, or damp our joys for ever. 

Some infirmities discover more good than some seeming- 
beautiful actions ; excess of passion in opposing evil, (though 
not to be justified.) yet showeth a better spirit than a calm 
temper when there is just cause of being moved. Better it 
is that the water should run somewhat muddily than not at 
all. Job had more grace in his distemper than his friends 
in their seeming wise carriage. 

If I cannot take pleasure in infirmities, I can sometimes 
feel the profit of them. I can conceive a king to pardon a 
rebel, and take him into his family, and then say, " I 
appoint you for a season to wear a fetter. At a certain sea- 
son I will send a messenger to knock it off. In the mean 
time, this fetter will serve to remind you of your state ; it 
may humble you, and restrain you from rambling." 

So long as thou art faithful to resist and mourn for infir- 
mities, they rather move God's pity to thee, than wrath 
against thee. 'Tis one thing for a child employed by his 
father, willingly or negligently to spoil the work he sets 
him about ; and another, when through natural weakness 
he fails in the exact doing of it. Should a master bid his 
servant give him a cup of wine, and he should willingly 
throw both glass and wine on the ground, he might expect 
his master's just displeasure; but if, through some unsteadi- 

u 2 



292 



INFIRMITIES. 



ness, he should, notwithstanding all his care, spill some of 
it in the bringing, an ingenuous master will rather pity him 
for his disease, than be angry for the wine that is lost : and 
did God ever give his servants occasion to think him a hard 
master ? Hath he not promised " that he will spare us, as 
a father his child that serves him ?" From whence come all 
the apologies which he makes for his people's failings, if not 
from his merciful heart, interpreting candidly that they 
proceed rather from their want of skill, than will, power, or 
desire ? " The flesh is weak, but the spirit is willing," (Matt, 
xxvi. 41,) was his favourable gloss for his disciples' drowsi- 
ness in prayer. 

Though grace be oppressed, yet it will recover itself. It 
is indeed sometimes overtopped by temptation, (as a fountain, 
which, being overflowed by the torrent of a neighbouring- 
river, is covered while the flood lasts, that a man knows not 
where to find it ; but after those great waters are slid away, 
the fountain bubbles up as clearly as before,) yet it works 
all that while under that oppression, though not perceived. 
It will rise again by virtue of a believer's union with Christ, 
as a bough bent down by force, yet, by virtue of its union to 
the body of the tree, will return to its former posture when 
the force is removed. The sap in the root of a tree, 
which the coldness of the season hath stripped of its leaves, 
will, upon the return of the sun, disperse itself, and as it were 
meet it in the utmost branches, and renew its old acquaint- 
ance with it. Shall the divine nature in the soul be out- 
stripped by mere nature in the plants ? Grace can never 
be so extinguished, but there will be some sparks whereby 
it may be rekindled. The spark of Peter's grace was re- 
kindled again by a look from his Master. Yea, it may, by 
a secret influence of the Spirit, gather strength to act more 
vigorously after its emerging from under the present oppres- 
sion, like the sun more warm in its beams after it hath been 
obscured by fogs. Peter's love was more vigorous after his 
recovery. Christ implied it when he acquainted him with 
his danger—" When thou art converted, strengthen thy 
brethren." Luke xxii. 32. 

A noble vessel, in the year 1800, appeared off the Good- 



JUSTIFICATION. 



293 



win sands with signals of distress. She had been for some 
time making signals for a pilot, and having been observed 
on shore, a small skiff put off with an experienced one on 
board. But before it could reach her, she was driven on the 
sands, and became a wreck. The well-piloted little skiff 
escaped the dangers, and returned safely to port. So, 
weakness, upheld by almighty grace, is safe — while the 
strongest without it must fail. The weakest, fortified by an 
almighty strength, and under the guidance of the Redeemer, 
has a power which neither Adam, with all his nature, nor 
the holy angels, before their confirmation, were ever pos- 
sessed of. Well, then, the weaker thy grace, the faster let 
thy dependence be on Christ, and then thou wilt be more 
secure by that exercise of faith, than by the strongest grace 
without it. A small vessel managed by a skilful pilot may 
be preserved in a rough sea, when a stronger left to itself 
will dash in pieces. 

The present is a mixed condition during which the 
believer feels like a sick man under his recovery, thankful 
for his deliverance and life ; the fears of death have passed 
away, the poison of disease no longer rages within him ; 
disease has no longer its fatal grasp on its victim, he has 
shaken it off, but he is very much enfeebled by it — he finds 
himself still a very weak creature ; alas ! he is feeling the 
sad remains of sin, his former complaint, so that he " cannot 
do the things that he would ;" he cannot work as he would, 
nor enjoy himself as he would ; he must still be attentive to 
the prescriptions of his heavenly Physician, and must wait 
the day of perfect restoration. 



Susttficatton. 

Antiquarians set an inestimable value on uniques : i. e. 
such curiosities of which there is but one or two of a sort in 
the world. Justification is in the number of the believer's 
uniques. There is but one justification (properly so called) 



294 



JUSTIFICATION. 



in the whole universe: and it equally belongs, through 
grace, to all the children of God; and the Christian wishes to 
be viewing it every moment. 

Your heart is not the compass Christ saileth by ; he will 
give you leave to sing as you please, but he will not dance 
to your daft spring. It is not referred to you and your 
thoughts, what Christ will do with the charters betwixt you 
and him ; your own misbelief has torn them, but he hath 
the principal in heaven with himself : your thoughts are no 
part of the new covenant ; dreams change not Christ. 
Doubtings are your sins, but they are Christ's drugs and 
ingredients that the physician maketh use of for the curing 
of your pride. In the passing of your bill and your char- 
ters, when they went through the Mediator's great seal, and 
were concluded, faith's advice was not sought: faith hath 
not a vote beside Christ's merits ; blood, blood, dear blood, 
that came from your cautioner's holy body, maketh that sure 
work. The use, then, which ye have of faith now (having 
already closed with Jesus Christ for justification) is, to take 
out a copy of your pardon ; and so ye have peace with God 
upon the account of Christ : for since faith apprehendeth 
pardon, but never payeth a penny for it, no marvel that sal- 
vation doth not die or live, ebb or flow, with the working of 
faith. But, because it is your Lord's honour to believe his 
mercy and his fidelity, it is infinite goodness in our Lord 
that unbelief giveth a dash to our Lord's glory, and not to 
our salvation. 

We have many sweet and precious promises to cheer our 
present existence, and enliven the gloom of an untried fu- 
turity. But the glorious announcement of a free and full 
salvation through the merits of the Lord Jesus, imputed to 
the believer simply through faith in him, eclipses them all. 
Like the stars in the presence of the sun, they hide their 
diminished heads, lost in the effulgence'of this bright lumi- 
nary ; and as the moon will pour from one end of the heavens 
to the other, a light which could not be contributed from the 
whole host of minute studding stars— so it is with this won- 
derful gift of God's salvation. It sheds a brighter and 



JUSTIFICATION. 



295 



wider light than the whole hemisphere of God's love, starred 
with all his other precious promises, can dispense. 

A man is denominated righteous, as a wall may be es- 
teemed red or green. Now that comes to pass two manners 
of ways; either by the colour inherent and belonging unto 
the wall itself, or by the same colour in some diaphanous, 
transparent body, as glass, which, by the beam of the sun 
shining on the wall, doth externally affect the same as if it 
were its own, and covers that true inherent colour which it 
hath of itself. In like manner, by the strict covenant of the 
law, we ought to be righteous from a righteousness inherent 
in and performed by ourselves : but in the new covenant 
of grace we are righteous by the righteousness of Christ, 
which shineth upon us, and presenteth us in his colour unto 
the sight of his Father. Here, in both covenants, the 
righteousness from whence the denomination groweth is the 
same ; namely, the satisfying of the demands of the whole 
law ; but the manner of our right and propriety thereunto 
is much varied. In the one, we have right unto it by law, 
because we have done it ourselves ; in the other, we have 
right unto it only by grace and favour, because another 
man's doing of it is bestowed upon us, and accounted ours. 

As the sun by his beams doth not only expel cold, but 
works heat and fruitfulness also; thus in the justification of 
a sinner repenting, there is a further reach than the taking 
away of sin, there is also infusion of grace and virtue into the 
sinner's heart. The father of the prodigal did not only take 
off all his son's rags, but put on the best he had, and a ring 
on his finger ; and to say truth, our justification doth not 
consist only in the taking away of sin, but in the imputation 
of Christ's righteousness and obedience ; for though the act 
be one, yet for the manner it is twofold ; first by privation, 
secondly, by imputation. — Spencer. 

A gardener offering a rape-root (being the best present 
the poor man had) to the Duke of Burgundy, was bounti- 
fully rewarded by the duke ; which his steward observing, 
thought to make use of his bounty, and presented him with 
a very fair horse. The duke, being a very wise, discreet man, 
perceived the project, received the horse, and gave him 



296 



JUSTIFICATION. 



nothing for it. Right so will God deal with all merit- 
mongers, that think by their good works to purchase heaven, 
which cannot be, the work being finite, the wages infinite ; 
so that merit must needs be a mere fiction, sith there can 
be no proportion betwixt the work and reward. There is, 
indeed,' mention made of a mercy-seat in the temple, but 
there was never heard of any school of merit, but in the 
chapel of antichrist. — Spencer. 

If the king freely, without desert of mine, and at the 
mediation of another, give me a place about him, and never 
so much right unto it, yet I am bound, if I will enjoy it, to 
come unto him, and do the things that the place requireth. 
And if he give me several trees growing in his forest, this 
his gift ties me to be at cost to cut them down, and bring 
them home, if I will have them ; and when I have done all 
this, I cannot boast that by my coming and service I merited 
this place ; or by my cost in cutting down and carrying home 
the trees, made myself worthy of the trees, as the Jesuits 
speak of their works ; but only the deed is the way that 
leads to the fruition of that which is freely given. There 
cannot be produced a place in all the Scriptures, nor a sen- 
tence in all the fathers, which extend our works any further, 
or make them exceed the latitude of a mere condition, or 
way whereby to walk to that, which not themselves, but the 
blood of Christ hath deserved. — Ibid. 

As robes and a coronet do not constitute a peer, but are 
ensigns and appendages of his peerage, for the will of the 
sovereign is the grand efficient cause which elevates a com- 
moner to noble rank ; and as the very patent of creation is 
only an authentic manifesto, not casual, but declarative of 
the king's pleasure to make him a nobleman : just so, good 
works do not make us alive to God, nor justify us before 
him, nor exalt us to the dignity and felicity of peerage : 
they are but the robes, the coronet, and the manifesto, shining 
in our lives and conversation, and making evident to all 
around us that we are, in deed and in truth, chosen to sal- 
vation, justified through Christ, and renewed by the Holy 
Ghost. 

Men, in seeking salvation by the works of the law, have 



JOY. 



297 



no idea what folly they are guilty of. What should we think 
of a man, who, when offered an estate which had been pur- 
chased at an immense price, should decline accepting it as 
a gift, and that too by labours which a thousand men are not 
able to perform : yet that were wisdom when compared with 
a rejection of salvation through the imputation of Christ's 
righteousness, seeking it by the works of the law. 

Some harbours have bars of sand which lie across the 
entrance, and prohibit the access of ships at low water. 
There is a bar, not of sand, but of adamantine rock, the 
bar of divine justice, which lies between a sinner and heaven. 
Christ's righteousness is the high water that carries a be- 
lieving sinner over this bar, and transmits him safe to the 
land of eternal rest. Our own righteousness is the low 
water which will fail us in our greatest need, and will ever 
leave us short of the heavenly Canaan. 

It is said of the original Indians of Florida, that when 
they could not pay their debts, they took a short method of 
settling the account, by knocking their creditors on the head. 
Sinners in a state of unregeneracy, though partly sensible 
that they do not keep the law of God, yet think to knock 
Cod's justice on the head, by pleading absolute mercy. 



3te>. 

If our hearts are ever refreshed with spiritual delight, we 
should be as cautious of an uncalled-for advance into the 
world, as of exposing an invalid's susceptible frame to a 
damp or unhealthy atmosphere. Whatever warmth had 
been kindled in spiritual duties, may be chilled by one mo- 
ment's unwary rush into an unkindly clime. 

Pearls are not gotten but from the bottom of the water ; 
and gold is digged not from the surface, but from the deep 
entrails of the earth. So the joy of God is not to be found 
but in the inward recesses of a broken and contrite spirit. 



298 



JOY. 



Worldly joys are nothing- but spectres and apparitions of 
pleasures and joys ; they are like Jonah's gourd, which 
wither in a moment ; they are like crackling of thorns under 
a pot, which is soon at an end. Eccl. vii. 6. It makes a 
loud noise, a great blaze, but as it ariseth and increaseth on 
a sudden, so the substance of it is thin and vapid, it is a 
short-lived flame, and leaves nothing behind it ; they are 
deceitful joys which allure, but do not satisfy us, which, under 
a show of kindness, hurt us, like flowers which conceal 
bleeding thorns, which rend and tear us, and which in all 
respects have a greater mixture of troubles and misery than 
delight; Prov. xiy. 13. But, on the contrary, the joys of a 
believer are pure, without any mixture of baser alloy ; they 
are the drops and dews of heaven, and clear streams flow- 
ing from God, the fountain of all pleasures; they are joys 
clear from all filth and dreo-s. Isa. xxv. 6. And in this 
mountain shall the Lord of Hosts make unto all people a 
feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things 
full of marrow, of wine on the lees well refined. 

The Christian has a fons perennis within him. He is 
satisfied from himself. The men of the world borrow all 
their joy from without. Joy wholly from without is false, 
precarious, and short. From without it may be gathered, 
but like gathered flowers, though fair and sweet for a season, 
it must soon wither and become offensive. Joy from within 
is like smelling the rose on the tree, it is more sweet and 
fair, and I must add it is immortal. 

There may be the seed of grace where there is not the 
flower of joy. The earth may want a crop of corn, yet may 
have a mine of gold within. A Christian may have grace 
within, though the sweet fruit of joy does not grow. Vessels 
at sea, which are richly fraught with jewels and spices, may 
be in the dark and tossed in the storm. David in a state of 
dejection prays, " Take not thy Holy Spirit from me." " He 
doth not pray," saith Augustine, " Lord give me thy 
Spirit;" so that still he had the Spirit of God remaining in 
him. 

With respect to joy in spiritual things, we must distin- 
guish between the sensitive stirring of the affections, and the 



JOY. 



299 



solid complacency of the soul. It is possible a child of God 
may be more sensibly moved by temporal things, as they 
strike more upon the senses ; but the supreme and prevailing 
delight of the soul is in spiritual things, in the way of God's 
testimonies. To exemplify this by the contrary affection — as 
in sorrow, a temporal loss may to sense more stir the affec- 
tions, as to bodily expression of them, than a spiritual. As 
the drawing of a tooth, or any present pain, may make us 
cry out more than the languishing of a consumption, whereas 
the other may go nearer to the heart and cause a more 
lasting trouble : so in joy, a man may be pleased with 
earthly conveniences, and yet his solid esteem is in more 
spiritual things, as a trifle may provoke laughter more than 
a solid benefit which accrues to us. Therefore the case is 
not to be decided by the intensiveness of the sentive expres- 
sion, so much so as by the application of the soul. 

This is the main sting and exation of the creature alone, 
without God's more especial sanctification and blessing — 
that in it a man shall still taste a secret curse which deprives 
him of that clearness and satisfaction which he looks for 
from it. False joy, like " the crackling of thorns," he 
may find : but still there is some " fly in the ointment," 
" some death in the pot," " some madness in the laughter," 
which, in the midst of all, damps and surpriseth the soul 
with horror and sadness : there are still some secret sugges- 
tions and whisperings of a guilty conscience, that through 
all this J orclan of pleasure a man swims down apace into a 
dead sea ; that all his delights do but carry him the faster 
into a final judgment. True joy, saith the heavenly man, is 
not a perfunctory, a floating thing ; it is serious and massy, 
it sinks to the centre of the heart. As in nature, the heavens 
(we know) are always calm, serene, uniform, undisturbed ; 
they are the clouds and lower regions that thunder and 
bluster. The sun and stars raise up no fogs so high as that 
they may imprint any real blot upon the beauty of those 
purer bodies, or disquiet their constant and regular motions ; 
but, in the lower regions, by reason of their nearness to the 
earth, they frequently raise up such meteors as often break 
forth into thunders and tempests. So the more heavenly 



300 



JUDGMENT. 



the mind is, the more untainted doth it keep itself from the 
corruptions and temptations of worldly things; the more 
quiet and composed is it in all estates ; but in minds merely 
sensual, the hotter God's favours shine, and the faster his 
rain falls upon them, the more fogs are raised, the higher 
thorns grow up, the more darkness and distractions do 
shake the soul of such a man. As fire under water, the 
hotter it burns, the sooner it is extinguished by the over- 
running of the water ; so earthly things raise up such 
tumultuary and disquiet thoughts in the minds of men, as do 
at last quite extinguish all the heat and comfort which was 
expected from them. 

There is a language befitting every state and condition. 
Sorrow and sickness will have its mourning. Health and 
prosperity call for the voice of praise. When a patient 
enters an hospital with a sore disease, you do not expect from 
him the cheerful looks and language of a person in health. 
That he mourns while under the pressure of severe bodily suf- 
fering, is quite natural. But if under the process and regimen 
which is used, his disorder is much abated and continues to 
improve, and his sufferings have passed — if then he should still 
continue to mourn and complain as when he laboured under 
the intensity of his complaint, you would judge him to be 
ungrateful and deserving condemnation. So the believer, 
when first he comes to Jesus, and is writhing under the 
wounds of sin and the bonds of iniquity, can hardly be ex- 
pected to rejoice. But as under his good Physician he 
experiences a return of health, he must stir up his soul to 
bless the Lord, " who healeth all his diseases." If he still 
labours and mourns under indwelling sin, with the apostle 
St. Paul, let him also with him triumph and rejoice in his 
Redeemer. 



When Sapores, king of Persia, raised a violent persecution 
against the Christians, Usthezanes, an old nobleman, a cour- 



JUDGMENT. 



301 



tier, that had Sapores' government in his minority, being a 
Christian, was so terrified that he left off his profession. But 
he, sitting at the court-gate when Simon, an aged holy bishop, 
was leading to prison, and rising up to salute him, the good 
bishop frowned upon him, and turned away his face with 
indignation, as being loth to look upon a man that had denied 
the faith : Usthezanes fell a weeping, went into his chamber, 
put off his courtly attire, and broke out into these words : 
" Ah, how shall I appear before the great God of heaven 
whom I have denied, when Simon, but a man, will not endure 
to look upon me ; if he frown, how will God behold me when 
I come before his tribunal V The thought of God's judg- 
ment-seat wrought so strongly upon him, that he recovered 
his spiritual strength, and died a glorious martyr. Thus, did 
but men consider that they must one day stand before the 
bar of God's tribunal, they would then be casting up how 
things stood betwixt him and their own souls. Would any 
man loiter away the day when he knows that he must show 
his work to his master at night ? Let every man, then, in 
in all his doings, remember his end, and so he shall never do 
amiss ; remember that all must come to a reckoning in that 
great day. — Spencer. 

It is reported of a certain king of Hungary, who being 
on a time marvellous sad and heavy, his brother, that was a 
resolute courtier, would needs know what he ailed. " Oh, 
brother," quoth he, " I have been a great sinner against God, 
and I know not how I shall appear before him when he 
comes to judgment." " These are (said his brother) melan- 
choly fits," and so makes a toy of them, as gallants use to do. 
The king replied nothing for the present ; but the custom of 
that country was, that if the executioner of justice came 
and sounded a trumpet before any man's door, the man was 
presently, without any more ado, to be led to execution. 
The king, in the dead of the night, sends for his death's-man, 
and causeth him to sound his trumpet before his brother's 
door ; who, seeing and hearing the messenger of death, springs 
in pale and trembling into his brother's presence, and be- 
seeches the king to tell him wherein he had offended him. 
" Oh, brother," replies the king, " thou hast loved me and 



302 



JUDGMENT. 



never offended me, and is the sight of my executioner so 
dreadful to thee ? And shall not so great a sinner as I 
fear to be brought to the judgment-seat of God ?" Thus, 
did but men stand in St. Jerome's posture, always hearing 
the trumpet sounding in their ears, they would make more 
conscience of their ways, and cry out, What shall I do ? 
And thus, in all their doings, remembering their latter end, 
they would never do amiss. — Ibid. 

A man's own feelings, from which he has drawn pleasure 
during life, will become hereafter the sources of his moral 
misery. Like the gastric juice, which in the living animal, 
though it dissolves the nutriment, is perfectly innoxious to 
the stomach itself, as soon as the animal dies becomes as 
corrosive as aquafortis, and actually eats through and dis- 
solves the stomach itself. ~No punitive act on God's part 
is necessary ; the wicked will punish themselves far more 
deeply than could be in any way of outward infliction, inas- 
much as their very apprehension of God must be that to 
them which the receiving of the sunbeam is to the dead 
animal. 

The constitution of man's soul is such, that its future exal- 
tation to happiness, or its final ruin must partake of much 
of the character of infinity. With a mind lighted up with 
divinity — immortal in its highest nature, and immeasura- 
ble in its capacities and powers ; with its desires vast as 
eternity, how great must be its fall or its salvation ! So 
the fall of an emperor bears no resemblance to that of one 
of his subjects ; when dethroned, he is hurled from the pin- 
nacle of greatness into the depth of degradation. There is 
nothing to break his fall — there is no medium between the 
highest honour which he once enjoyed, and the disgrace and 
dishonour which attend the loss of his sceptre. He cannot 
sit down with the respectability of one who was born and lives 
a subject — he is no longer a king ! Such is the case with the 
soul : there is no medium between God's heaping upon it the 
greatest favours, and leaving it in an abyss of misery. 
When it falls, it falls for ever — a splendid ruin — filling 
created intelligences with a wondrous awe at such a direful 
state of things as cannot be conceived. 



JUDGMENT. 



303 



God's judgments, these notices of things terrible and 
true, pass through man's understanding as an eagle through 
the air. As long as her flight lasted the air was shaken, 
but there remains no path behind her. 

The student of nature adverts with proud delight to that 
period in the history of science, when, as facts multipled, 
leading phenomena became prominent, laws began to 
emerge, and generalisation to commence ; when the disco- 
veries of a single mind harmonised unnumbered facts, and 
placed the system of the universe on a basis never after to 
be shaken. The judgment will be a great process of moral 
generalisation. Wherever, indeed, the gospel comes with 
power even now, the process begins. It no sooner obtains 
a footing amongst a people, than, flinging a contempt on all 
their earthly distinctions, it produces a new classification. 
It essays to separate the precious from the vile, and to 
collect them into a church ; to draw a line of demarcation, 
on the one side of which shall stand all the good, on the 
other side all the bad ; and this classification it intends to 
be all-comprehensive and ultimate. At present, however, 
numerous impediments operate to prevent the perfect 
realisation of the theory. Approximation is all that can be 
attained. Tares spring up among the wheat ; and, notwith- 
standing every precaution, the foolish virgins mingle with 
the wise. But the last day shall behold this simplification 
complete. By the application of a single principle, he will 
reduce the chaos to order, " dividing the light from the 
darkness." By the application of a single rule he will 
gather like things to like ; and two classes shall comprise 
all the infinite varieties. Under one or the other of them, 
each individual shall find a place — a place so appropriate, 
that he could not exchange it, even with one of the same 
class, without doing violence to all fitness and order ; and 
those characteristics, on account of which the place has 
been assigned him, will be acknowledged by all to be specific, 
his most distinguishing marks. The universe will confess 
and admire the justice, harmony, and perfection of the dis- 
tribution. — Harris. 



304 



KNOWLEDGE* 



Learning, in religious persons, like the gold that was in 
the Israelites' earrings, is a most precious ornament : but 
if men pervert it to base ends, or begin to make an idol of 
it, (as they did a golden calf of their earrings,) it then be- 
comes an abomination. 

Theoretical knowledge, (standing by itself,) being but a 
false knowledge, is but a weak and dead thing, able to put 
forth no vital or spiritual action; just as a flash of lightning 
in the night, it makes all the way plain, but before one step 
can be taken, all is in darkness : such a vanishing vapour is 
mere notion, which puffs up the head, but penetrates not the 
heart. But practical knowledge, being true knowledge, hath 
strength and life in it ; it puts forth vital and spiritual 
actions. Hence Christ calls it no less than " eternal life ;" 
John xvii. ; it brings forth the blood and vital spirit of the 
new creature ; strengthens him with spiritual bones and 
sinews, and sets him in motion towards the crown of life in 
heaven. 

He who is enlightened with the true knowledge, will seek 
and turn towards the true good. A heart of unbelief may 
depart from the living God, but shall one who has the true 
wisdom do so ? Whither shall he turn ? What ! to the 
riches of the world ? 'Tis but a drop to the unsearchable 
riches of Christ, says the understanding. To honours,? 'Tis 
but a blast to the true honour which cometh from God only, 
saith the understanding. To pleasures? These are but 
the muddy puddles to the pure rivers of pleasure which are 
at God's right hand, saith the understanding. His under- 
standing doth, as it were, blast all the world, crucify the 
universe, and by a prospect of faith see the heavens on fire, 
the earth burnt up, and the elements melting with fervent 
heat, and can true wisdom fall in love with the dust and 
cinders of it ? 

In a sheet almanac, a man may, at one view, see all the 



KNOWLEDGE. 



303 



months in the year, both past and to come ; but in a book 
almanack, as he turneth to one month, so he turneth from 
another, and can but look only on the present. This is the 
true difference betwixt the knowledge of God and man ; he 
looketh in an instant of time to things past, present, and 
future ; but the knowledge of man reacheth only to a few 
things past and present, but knoweth nothing at all of 
things that are to come ; that's God's peculiar so to do, and 
a piece of learning too high for any mortal man to attain to. 
Spencer. 

Look upon a common beggar, he knows the road-way 
from place to place, can tell you the distance from town to 
town ; nay, more, can inform you of such a nobleman's, 
such a knight's, such a gentleman's house, though it stands 
a great way off from the road ; of such a farmer's, and such 
a yeoman's house, though it be in ever so obscure a village. 
Yet all this while he hath no settled home, no abiding place 
of his own. Such is the knowledge of every Christian, 
except a true Christian ; he can tell you of the pleasures that 
are at the right hand of God in the highest heavens ; can 
talk and prate of God, discourse of goodness, but all the 
while is not good himself, nor can make out unto himself 
any assurance of interest in those heavenly things which he 
so much talketh of. — Ibid. 

If any man's head or tongue should grow apace, and all 
the rest of the body not grow, it would certainly make him 
a monster ; and they are no other that are knowing and 
talkative Christians, and grow daily in these respects, but not 
at all in holiness of heart and life, which is the proper 
growth of the children of God. 

Without religion, learning is only a lamp on the outside of 
a palace. It may serve to throw a gleam of light on those 
that are without, while the inhabitant sits in darkness. 

He that withholds knowledge, and he that voluntarily 
remains in ignorance, is guilty of all the crimes which igno- 
rance produces, just as to him who should extinguish the 
tapers of a lighthouse might justly be imputed the calami- 
ties of a shipwreck. 

Knowledge in the soul is as the eye in the body, (Eph. i. 

x 



306 



KNOWLEDGE. 



18) a sun in the sky. Ignorance, contrary wise, is like a 
face without eyes, or the sky without a sun. O ! how mis- 
shapen, dark, and deformed ! Ignorance is a miserable and 
deformed sinfulness. Knowledge is as a pilot to all our 
christian duties and actions. She sits at the stern in every 
well-conducted action and service. It is a guide to all our 
faculties and affections, as light in the bodily eye guides all 
the bodily parts and members. 

You know as much as is good for you, for it is with the 
mind as it is with the senses. A greater degree of hearing- 
would incommode us ; and a nicer degree of seeing would 
terrify us. If our eyes could see things microscopically, we 
should be afraid to move. Thus our knowledge is suited to 
our situation and circumstances. Were we informed more 
fully beforehand of the good things prepared for us by Pro- 
vidence, from that moment we should cease to enjoy the 
good things we possess, become indifferent to present duties, 
and be filled with restless impatience. Or suppose the 
things foreknown were gloomy and adverse ; what dismay 
and despondency would be the consequence of the disco- 
very ; and how many times should we suffer in imagination 
what we now only endure once in reality ! Who would wish 
to draw back a vail which saves them from so many disquie- 
tudes 1 If some of you had formerly known the troubles 
through which you have since waded, you would have 
fainted under the prospect. Bat what we know not now, we 
shall know hereafter. 

Beyond the most simple precincts of our ordinary per- 
ceptions, what adequate power, and therefore what Tight, 
do we possess to pronounce upon things, as consistent or 
otherwise, which may have their congruities in nothing 
short of the infinite mind ? Two straight lines may be con- 
ceived, which, as far as sight can trace them, appear parallel, 
but which, carried out to infinity, would be found to con- 
verge ; and there maybe to any extent in the mysteries of re- 
velation, doctrines and principles co-existent, and co-autho- 
ritative, which to all human, and perhaps to all finite intelli- 
gence, may seem but like two parallel lines of truth. Tested 
by earthly criteria, they may have no discoverable approxima- 



KNOWLEDGE. 



307 



tion ; in the infinity of the great Supreme, they may harmo- 
nise and unite. Consistency, then, in our grasp of things, is 
at the best no safe or proper proof of what is true and 
right. 

Those subjects, which are too difficult in their very 
nature for our powers, are the source of very many of the 
unhappy controversies which agitate the church. The mind 
is not capable of grasping fully the whole truth. Each side 
seizes a part, and building its own inferences upon these par- 
tial premises, they soon find that their own opinions come 
into collision with those of their neighbours. Moralists tell 
the following story, which very happily illustrates this spe- 
cies of controversy. In the days of knight errantry, when 
individual adventurers rode about the world seeking employ- 
ment in their profession, which was that of the sword, two 
strong and warlike knights, coming from opposite directions, 
met each other at a place where a statue was erected. On 
the arm of the statue was a shield, one side of which was 
iron, the other of brass ; and as our two heroes reined up 
their steeds, the statue was upon the side of the road, be- 
tween them, in such a manner that the shield presented its 
surface of brass to the one, and of iron to the other. They 
immediately fell into conversation in regard to the structure 
before them, when one incidentally alluding to the iron shield, 
the other corrected him, by remarking that it was of brass. 
The knight upon the iron side, of course did not receive the 
correction. He maintained that he was right, and after 
carrying on the controversy for a short time by harsh lan- 
guage, they gradually grew angry, and soon drew their 
swords. A long and furious combat ensued, and when at 
last both were exhausted, unhorsed, and lying wounded 
upon the ground, they found that the whole cause of their 
trouble was, that they could not see both sides of a shield at 
a time. Now religious truth is sometimes such a shield, 
with various aspects, and the human mind cannot clearly see 
all at a time. Two christian knights, clad in strong armour, 
come up to some object, as moral agency, and view it from 
opposite stations. One looks at the power which man has 
over his heart, and laying his foundation there, he builds up 

x 2 



308 



KNOWLEDGE. 



his theory upon that alone. Another looks upon the divine 
power in the human heart, and laying* his own separate 
foundation, builds up his theory. The human mind is inca- 
pable, in fact, of grasping the subject — of understanding- 
how man can be free and accountable, and yet be so much 
under the control of God as the Bible represents. Our 
christian soldiers, however, do not consider this. Each 
takes his own view, and carries it out so far as to interfere 
with that of the other. They converse about it — they talk 
more and more warmly — then a long controversy ensues — 
their dispute agitates the church, and divides brethren from 
brethren ; and why ? Why, just because our Creator has so 
formed us that we cannot, from one point of view, see both 
sides of the shield at the same time. The combatants, after 
a long battle, are both unhorsed and wounded ; their useful- 
ness, and their christian character is injured, or destroyed. — 
Jacob Abbott. 

Take a blind man, set him in a clear night with his face 
upon the moon when it shines, when all the stars are spark- 
ling round about, yet he sees nothing of the brightness of the 
one, or twinkling of the other, only some glimmerings ; or he 
perceives some kind of reflex upon him, whereby he concludes 
that the moon is up, and that the stars show themselves. Then 
take a man in possession of his eyesight, and he discovers all, 
he walks all over the sky, from star to star, from one constel- 
lation to another, he is able to give account of all. Thus 
take the natural man, set him in the midst of the ordi- 
nances ; let the administration be ever so pure, the dispensa- 
tions never so clear, he sees nothing of God, but, as it were 
through chinks and crannies of nature, some glimpse and 
glimmer only of divine light. O but the child of God hav- 
ing the perspective glasses of the New Testament, he walks 
from star to star : faith, hope, and charity shine out — he 
passes from one attribute of God to another, like stars of the 
first magnitude — nothing in order to salvation is hid from 
his eyes. — Spencer. 

There is no reason, no universal reason, which will reach 
through the intellectual universe, for supposing the least im- 
perfection in the present constitution of things ; or that 



KNOWLEDGE. 



309 



what is murmured at, and objected to as evil, is not in our 
imagination only, and not really in things themselves. 
There is no reason to show that a figure by us called regu- 
lar, which hath equal sides and angles, is absolutely more 
beautiful than any irregular one. All beauty is relative, 
and all bodies are truly and naturally beautiful under all pos- 
sible shapes and proportions that are good in their kind, 
that are fit for their proper uses and ends of their natures. 
We ought not then to believe that the banks of the ocean 
are really deformed, because they have not the form of a re- 
gular bulwark ; or that the mountains are out of shape 
because they are not erect pyramidical cones ; nor that the 
stars are unskilfully placed because they are not all situated 
at uniform distance. These are not natural irregularities, but 
with respect to our fancies only ; nor are they incommodious 
to the true uses of life, and the design of man's being on 
the earth. And thus it is with the seeming; irregularities of 
the moral world — their unity and perfection as a whole, and 
as parts in the universal scheme of things, may not be per- 
ceived. 

God has revealed great mysteries sufficient for saving- 
faith, though not to satisfy rash curiosity. There is a 
knowledge of curiosity and discourse, and a knowledge 
of doing and performance. The art of navigation re- 
quires a knowledge how to govern a ship, and what seas 
are safe, what are dangerous by rocks and sands, and 
tempests, that often surprise those who sail to them : but the 
knowledge of the causes of the ebbing and flowing of the 
sea is not necessary. The mariner must be instructed in 
the nature and use of the compass, but a knowledge of the 
mysterious nature of the loadstone is not required of him. 
So, to believe savingly in Christ, we must know that he is the 
living and true God, and true man, that died for our 
redemption ; but 'tis not necessary that we should know the 
manner of the union of his two natures. The discovery of 
the manner of divine mysteries is not suitable to the nature 
of faith, for 'tis the evidence of things not seen ; the obscu- 
rity of the object is consistent with the certainty of the 
assent to it : and 'tis contrary to the end of revelation : 



310 



LAW. 



which is to humble us in the modest ignorance of divine 
mysteries which we cannot comprehend, and to enlighten us 
in those things which are necessary to be known. The 
light of faith is as much below the light of glory, as 'tis 
above the light of nature. 

There is an hydropic curiosity, that swells the mind with 
pride, and is thirsty after the knowledge of things unsearch- 
able. This curiosity has often been fatal to faith. 'Tis like 
a man's endeavour to climb up to the inaccessible point of a 
rock that is very hazardous, to see the sun in its brightness, 
which may safely be seen from the plain ground. The 
searching into the unsearchable things of God's nature and 
decrees has been the occasion of many pernicious errors. 
'Tis like the silly moth fluttering about the burning light 
till its wings are singed. To attempt to make supernatural 
doctrines more receivable to reason by insufficient arguments, 
weakens the authority and credit of revelation : the endea- 
vour to make them more easily known, makes them more 
hard to be believed. To venture to explicate them beyond 
the revelation of them in scripture, is like a man's going- 
out of a fortress wherein he is safe into an open field, and 
exposing himself to the assaults of the enemy. 



As when a physician that is gifted in his profession doth 
all that belongs to the best of his judgment ; the drugs that 
he gives, and the ingredients that he infuseth, are able to 
work their effect, if they fall into a suitable body : but if the 
patient be froward, and will not be ruled, or his body labour 
under an invincible malady, he is never the better for it; 
but the disease is aggravated. Now the fault is not in the 
physician, nor in the physic, they be both very good ; but in 
the party that was not prepared for it, or that would not. 
receive it, and convert it to that use for which it was pre- 
pared. Thus it is, that God gave the law for a good law, an 



LAW. 



311 



holy and just law, as a true direction for the reformation of 
life and manners ; but the party that received it did not 
take it thus, so that, not from the nature of the law, but by 
the ill acceptance of the party, it comes to be the strength of 
sin. The law of itself is said to be " a light unto our feet, 
and a lantern to our paths ;" and the light of itself, we are 
but able to follow it ; but because of our own natural indis- 
position, it comes so to pass, that the law which should pull 
down sin, gives strength unto it; and being made to Mil sin, 
gives life unto it. — Spencer. 

If a man. have a corrupt and dangerous sore in his flesh, 
if he will be cured, or prevent the danger of a gangrene, he 
must prepare himself both for trouble, pain, and many 
other inconveniences ; as, first, the lancing of it, then the 
discharging of its inward corruption, then corrosives to eat 
out the proud flesh ; and lastly, searing and cauterising, be- 
fore any healing plaster be applied. Even so in the spi- 
ritual healing of our sins, the work of the law must precede 
the work of the gospel : first, that of the law to humble us ; 
then that of the gospel to comfort us. Before there be any 
obtaining of pardon, any comfort in the hope of redemp- 
tion, the law must take us in hand, search our frailty, lance 
our sins, cast out the corruption of our natures, make us 
cry with the smart of our wounds. And then it is that the 
gentle cataplasms of the gospel may be applied, and the 
comforts of remission ministered unto us from the Physician 
of our souls, Christ Jesus. — Ibid. 

The blessed " Author and Finisher of our faith" has said, 
"Think not that I am come to destroy the law and the 
prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. Destroy 
the law ? Yes, just as much as the infant is destroyed, 
when he attains to perfect stature and to manly strength. 
Destroy the law ? Yes, as much as the instrument is 
destroyed, because it wakes to sweeter melody, or bolder 
tones. Destroy the law ? Yes, as the vineyard is destroyed, 
" when a blessing" being in its comparatively scant vintage, 
" the vats now are filled, and the presses overflow," with its 
gathered produce, in the sweetest, choicest wine. Destroy 



312 



LIFE. 



the law? Yes, as the morning light is lost, or can be 
destroyed, when all its mountain mists are scattered, and 
all its lingering shadows fled, and the once twilight dawn 
has travelled onward to a bright and perfect day. — Ibid. 

It is just because fallen man is flung out of the region of 
law that he is unhappy ; like as if you could imagine one of 
the planets flung out of the attractions of gravitation, and 
sent adrift as a wanderer through the immensity of space, 
without any object or direction. How can regularity be 
restored to that wandering globe ? Only by bringing it back 
again within the attraction of gravitation. And what 
gravitation is to the planet, the law of God is to the 
souls of men. Fallen man is driven away from holy attrac- 
tion, and it is only when man is born of God, born again, 
born from above, created anew, that he is restored within 
the range of that attraction ; and in proportion as the con- 
sequences of his wanderings are removed from him, and the 
lingering resistance within him to the orbit of holiness is 
overcome, in the same proportion he is at home, at home 
with God, in holy, happy love. Did he always live, and 
move, within the boundaries of law, man were for ever 
blessed. 



Htfe. 

Those who travel through deserts would often be at a loss 
for water if certain indications, which the hand of Provi- 
dence has marked out, did not serve to guide him to a sup- 
ply. The secret wells are for the most part discoverable 
from the verdure which is nourished by their presence. So 
the fruitfulness of good works of the believer, amidst the 
deadness and sterility around him, proclaim the Christian's 
life. 

It was well said by Sir Francis Bacon, that " old wood 



LIFE. 



313 



is best to burn ; old friends best to trust ; and old books 
best to read." What vast value do scholars put upon an 
ancient manuscript? Doubtless, the oldest of all manu- 
scripts is the book of life ; and the writing our names therein 
the first-born of all God's favours. If God sets a value on 
the first-fruits of our services, how careful should we be to 
magnify the first-fruits of his goodness ! If old charters be 
of so great esteem as they are in the world, what an immense 
estimate should we set upon the most ancient magna charta 
of our eternal election, " having this seal, the Lord know- 
eth them that are his !" 

If the saying of the stoic be true, " In sapientum decretis 
nulla est litura," i. e. in the decrees of wise men there can 
be no blotting nor blurring, — how much more may it be 
asserted concerning the decrees of the infinitely wise God ! 
If it became Pilate to say, " What I have written I have 
written," it would certainly misbecome the great and immu- 
table God to blot so much as any one single name out of 
the Lamb's book of life, written by himself before the 
world was. We may rest assured, that this book will admit 
of no deleatur, nor of any expurgatory index. 

Of the great prizes in human life, it is not often the lot of 
the most enterprising to obtain many : they are placed on 
opposite sides of the path, so that it is impossible to ap- 
proach one of them without proportionably receding from 
another ; whence it arises that the wusest plans are founded 
on a compromise between good and evil, where much that 
is the object of desire is finally abandoned and relin- 
quished, in order to secure superior advantages. The can- 
didate for immortality is reduced to no such alternative ; 
the possession of his object comprehends all ; it combines in 
itself, without imperfection and without alloy, all the scat- 
tered portions of good for which the world are accustomed 
to contend. 

All mankind being condemned as soon as born, life is 
but a reprieve, a suspension of citation, a breathing time of 
mercy, a suspending of wrath — the sleeping of a storm, 
which is about to burst forth in floods of destruction on all 
who are not sheltered in Christ — it is the staying the 



314 



LIFE. 



almighty arm of Him who saith, " Vengeance is mine, I 
will repay." — This is just what life is — a calm to usher in a 
mighty tempest. 

As a man acts in a pageant, or in a play — he is in some 
sort a king or a beggar, for the time, but we value him not 
as he is then — but as he is when he is off the stage ; so 
while we live here, we act the part, some of the rich man, 
some of the nobleman, some of a beggar, or poor man — • 
all is but acting a part. We are not rich in the grave more 
than others. Since this world, then, is but acting a part, 
why should we think ourselves then better for anything 
here ? Does one player esteem himself better than another, 
for the part he has acted ? It is not he that acts the great- 
est part, but he that acts any part best. We value not men 
as they are when they are acting, but as they are after. 

The ordinary manna which Israel gathered for their 
daily use, did presently corrupt and breed worms, but that 
which was laid up before the Lord, the hidden manna in 
the tabernacle, did keep without putrefaction. So our life 
which we have here in the wilderness of this world, doth 
presently vanish and corrupt ; but our life which is kept in 
the tabernacle, our life which " is hid with Christ in God," 
that never runs into death. Natural life is like the river 
Jordan, empties itself into the Dead Sea ; but spiritual life is 
like the waters of the sanctuary, which, being shallow at the 
first, grow deeper and deeper into a river, which cannot be 
passed through : water continually springing, and running 
forward into eternal life ; so that the life which we leave is 
mortal and perishing, and that which we go into is durable 
and abounding. Job. x. 10. 

There be many things that move, and yet their motion is 
not an argument of life. A windmill, when the wind serveth, 
moveth, and moveth very nimbly too ; yet this cannot be 
said to be a living creature, it moveth only by an external 
cause, by an artificial contrivance ; it is so framed that when 
the wind sitteth in such, or such a corner it will move, and 
so having but an external motion and cause to move, and no 
inward principle, no life within it to move it, it is an argu- 
ment that it is no living creature. So it is, also> if a man 



LIGHT. 



315 



see another man move, and move very fast in those things 
which of themselves are the ways of God ; yon shall see him 
move as fast to hear a sermon as his neighbour doth ; as 
forward and hasty to thrust himself, and bid himself a guest 
to the Lord's table (when God hath not bid him) as any. 
]N*ow the question is, what principle sets him to work ? if it 
be an inward principle of life, out of a sincere affection and 
love to God and his ordinances, that carrieth him to this, it 
argueth that man hath some life of grace ; but if it be some 
wind that bloweth on him, the wind of law, the wind of 
danger or penalty, the wind of fashion or custom, to do as 
his neighbours do — if these, or the like, be the things that 
draw him thither, this is no argument of life at all ; it is a 
cheap thing, it is a counterfeit and dead piece of service. — 
Spencer. 



Much knowledge may be acquired of the gospel by a na- 
tural man who continues to sit under a faithful ministry. 
His affections, as well as his judgment, may embrace it. He 
may have a great admiration of its blessings and many 
excellencies, and be convinced that it is the highest gift of 
God, and designed for man's happiness. But he is still in 
the depths of ignorance, and knows not those truths which 
must be seen and felt before he can embrace it. It has mys- 
teries which the natural man receiyeth not ; these only can 
be taught him of the Spirit. It is just as a man of fine taste 
and education may admire a noble building without having 
read Vitruvius, or knowing anything of the rules of archi- 
tecture. But his knowledge of its details and admirable 
parts, and all that constitutes its harmony and beauty, is 
little or nothing. These are mysteries of a science he has 
never been taught. His judgment, though right as to the 
pre-eminence of the edifice generally, yet goes but a little 
way, and must be subject to innumerable mistakes : it is, at 
the best, but a most superficial knowledge, without the capa- 



316 



LIGHT. 



city of entering into the arts, the methods, the proportions, 
and the particular excellencies of the whole structure in all 
the parts of it. And therefore the pleasure felt in surveying 
it is exceedingly limited. 

The Holy Ghost must shine upon your graces, or you 
will not be able to see them ; and your good works must 
shine upon your faith, or your neighbours will not be able 
to see it, 

The path of the just is his covenant walk before God. 
There is no visible difference, as unto light, between the 
light of the morning and the light of the evening ; yea, this 
latter sometimes, from gleams of the setting sun, seems to be 
more glorious than the other. But herein they differ ; the 
first goes on gradually unto more light, until it comes to 
perfection ; the other gradually gives place to darkness, 
until it comes to midnight, So it is as unto the light of the 
just and the hypocrite, and so is it as unto their paths. At 
first setting out, they may seem alike and equal ; yea, con- 
victions and spiritual gifts, acted with corrupt ends in some 
hypocrites, may for a time give a greater lustre of profes- 
sion than the grace of others sincerely converted unto God 
may attain unto. But herein they discover their different 
natures ; the one increaseth, and goeth on constantly, though 
it may be sometimes but faintly ; the other decays, grows 
dim, gives place to darkness, and crooked walking. 

There are many false lights in the world. There is but 
one true light. 'Tis our nature to be drawn forth and 
dazzled by those false lights, by worldly ambition, carnal 
pleasures, uncertain riches. We seek the sparkling but 
fatal deceit, we encircle it, hover nearer and nearer. Warn- 
ings there are to stop us in our deluded course. A kind 
hand would often stop us, often it is thrust between us and 
the scorching glare, too often with too many in vain. They 
reach the object of their desire, but it becomes their de- 
struction. The true light, the source of life and cheerfulness 
and peace, has shined in vain for them ; has been shunned 
as if it were some horrible and pestilential meteor. Would 
you see the parable of this in nature's volume? See the 
moth drawn forth by the glare of a mean and rank smelling 



LIGHT. 



317 



candle. Its red and glowing flame proves only too attrac- 
tive ; the insect hovers nearer and nearer, and the hand of 
the observer is often thrust before the treacherous light ; how 
very often is the warning offered in vain, the flame is reach- 
ed, but with it death ! For the same insect, the bright and 
glorious sun, the source of life and health, has shined in vain ; 
the moth has shunned it ; we seldom see it on the wing till 
the bright and beautiful sun has come to its setting. 

The fathers were sanctified with the same Spirit of Christ 
with us ; difference there is none in the substance, but only 
in the accidents and circumstances of effusion, and mani- 
festation ; as light in the sun, and light in a star, is in 
itself the same original light, but very much varied in the 
dispensation. 

As regards the mysteries of our most holy faith, since we 
are not in darkness, but within the fringes and circles of a 
bright cloud, let us search as far into it as we are guided by 
the light of God, and when we are forbidden by the thicker 
part of the cloud, step back and worship. 

"Let your light shine." If the sun shine on a dull brick 
or stone, they reflect none of its beams ; there is nothing 
in them capable of this ; nor is there in an ungodly man 
any natural power of reflecting the light of God. But let 
the sun shine upon a diamond, and see what rays of spark- 
ling beauty it emits. Just so the Christian, who has the 
grace of the Spirit ; when God shines on his soul, beams of 
celestial loveliness are reflected by him on the world. " The 
christian character should savour holiness." The promise 
is, " I will be as the dew unto Israel ;" and how sweet is the 
fragrance of the flower after the falling of the dew ! so must 
the believer be under the soft distilments of the droppings 
of heaven on his heart. 

It is not enough that all our hindrances of knowledge 
are removed, for that is but the opening, of the covering of 
the book of God; but when opened, it is written with an 
hand that every eye cannot read. Though the windows of 
the east be open, yet every eye cannot behold the glories of 
the sun ; the eye that is not made solar cannot see the sun — 
the eye must be fitted to the splendour ; so it is not the wit 



318 



LIGHT. 



of man, but the spirit of man, that learns the Divine philo- 
sophy. 

What is splendour, what is wealth, if the Lord shed not the 
light of his glorious countenance thereon ? Even the lustre 
striking gold, yea, the lively diamond itself, were but a 
nothingness, and dark, did not the favouring light of heaven 
deign, as it were, to be spilt upon them. Yonder ambient 
orbs that light up the cerulean heavens, and roll in the eter- 
nal universe before the throne of God, would be wanting in 
all their radiant glimmerings, did not the enlivening beams 
of the sun illumine them : the " font of day" itself — yonder 
ascending ruler of the seasons, and brightest, though but 
faint image of its Creator — has all its light from him, and 
were not, but that " in the beginning the Spirit of God had 
brooded upon the face of the waters." And what were man 
without the light of revelation? Even though puffed and 
bolstered up by every dogma of philosophy, if the glorious 
light of Christ's salvation shone not on his sad estate — what, 
ah ! what were man ? 

There is a light of reason which is imparted to every man 
by nature ; but this light is darkness compared with the light 
which the saints enjoy, as the night is dark to the day even 
when the moon is in its full glory. This night light of 
reason may save a person from some ditch or pond, great 
and broad sins, but it will never help him to escape the more 
secret corruptions which the saints see like atoms in the 
beams of spiritual knowledge. Put the case of two persons, 
one of whom is gifted with the highest order of intellect, 
but unenlightened by the Spirit ; the other a poor ignorant 
person, deficient in intellectual capacity, but possessed 
of spiritual discernment. It is surprising how much this 
man will excel the other in true wisdom, and the know- 
ledge of good and evil. And just as a person with natural 
weak sight yet will see everything more clearly by the light 
of day, than one gifted with the most piercing sight can dis- 
cern objects at midnight, so will the naturally weak child of 
God behold things as one who walks in the light, where 
others grope their way in darkness. 

" Who is among you that feareth the Lord?" &c. A child 



LOVE. 



319 



of light continues " light in the Lord :" he may walk in 
darkness, and to his sense have no light, which yet is the re- 
mainder of light that makes him discern his want ; but he 
really is not darkness as before ; he has summer's sun, that 
shines longer, brighter, and warmer ; and his winter's sun, 
that shines shorter, is more frequently clouded, and has less 
heat; he has his fair days and foul, and rainy days, and a 
changeful intercourse of day and night, wherein he has only 
the moon and stars, but there is still light more or less. 



Hobc. 

The terrors of the law have much the same effect on our 
duties and obedience, as frost has on a stream : it hardens, 
cools, and stagnates. Whereas, let the shining of divine 
love rise upon the soul, — repentance will then flow, our 
hardness and coldness thaw and melt away, and all the 
blooming fruits of godliness flourish and abound. 

Were a man suddenly precipitated into the sea, and after 
making ineffectual struggles to save himself, to give up all for 
lost — should he at this crisis perceive a life-boat approaching, 
and a friendly hand extended for his rescue, he would at 
first scarcely credit his senses, or realise that he was safe : 
his joy would be so great, and his gratitude to his preserver 
so ardent. But after the first transports had subsided, he 
would feel more real pleasure in contemplating the vessel, 
in admiring the wisdom apparent in its construction, and its 
admirable adaptedness for saving from death all who were 
in his late situation, than he would when he viewed it merely 
as the means of saving his own life. So the sinner, when 
first he views himself rescued from destruction, is full of 
love to Christ for his peculiar and unmerited mercy to him- 
self. But as he increases in knowledge and christian attain- 
ments, and has clearer views of the character of God, and 
the wisdom and grace which appear in the plan of redemp- 
tion, his love has less and less of selfishness. 



320 



LOVE. 



Suppose two persons equally desirous to gain your affec- 
tions ; — one far distant, and not expecting to see you for a 
long time ; the other always present with you, and at liberty 
to use all means to win your love, able to flatter, and gratify 
you in a thousand ways. Still you prefer the absent one ; 
and that you may keep him in remembrance, you often 
retire by yourself to think of his love to you, and view again 
and again the mementos of his affection ; to read his letters, 
and pour out your heart in return. Such is now your case : 
the world is always before you, to flatter, promise, and please. 
But if you really prefer to love God, you will fix your 
thoughts on him, often retire for meditation and prayer, and 
recount the pleasant gifts of his providence, and especially 
his infinite mercy to your soul; you will read frequently his 
holy word, which is the letter he has sent you, as really as 
if it were directed to you by name. 

As fruits artificially raised or forced in the hothouse have 
not the exquisite flavour of those fruits which are grown 
naturally, and in their due season; so that obedience which 
is forced by the terrors of the law, wants the genuine flavour 
and sweetness of that obedience which springs forth from a 
heart warmed and meliorated with the love of God in Christ 
Jesus. 

God's love to his people is from everlasting to everlasting : 
there is no manifestation of it known or conceivable by us 
that can be compared to the love of the cross. The light of 
the sun is always the same, but it shines brightest to us at 
noon ; the cross of Christ was the noon- tide of everlasting 
love — the meridian splendour of eternal mercy. There vvere 
many bright manifestations of the same love before, but they 
were like the light of the morning, that shines more and 
more unto the perfect day ; and that perfect day was when 
Christ was on the cross, when darkness covered the land. 

You shall have a man scrape and crouch, and keep ado 
with a man he never knew or saw before, one that he is 
ready, it may be, (when his back is turned,) to curse ; but yet 
he will do this for his gain, his alms, to make a prey, a use 
of him some way or other : this man loves his alms, loves 
his prev, loveth his bounty ; but all this is no argument of 



LOVE. 



321 



love to the man. Thus, for a man to make towards God, 
and to seem to own him, and to be one of " the generation 
of those that seek his face," to address himself in outward 
conformity, and many other things by which another may 
(if he have no other ground) judge charitably of him; yet 
all this is nothing, except a man may discern something that 
may give him a cast, that his spirit doth uprightly and sin- 
cerely seek God, that he loveth God for God himself; that 
he loveth grace for grace itself ; he loveth the command- 
ments of God, because they are God's commandments, &c. 
And thus it is, that our love, our desire after God, must be 
carried sincerely, not for any by and base respects whatso- 
ever. — Spencer. 

The son of a poor man that hath not a penny to give or 
leave him, yields his father obedience as cheerfully as the 
son of a rich man, that looks for a great inheritance : it is 
indeed love to the father, not wages to the father, that is the 
ground of a good child's obedience. If there were no heaven, 
God's children would obey him ; and though there were 
no condemnation, yet would they do their duty. So power- 
fully doth the love of the Father constrain them. — Ibid. 

Every beam of light proceeding from the body of the sun 
is either direct, broken, or reflex ; direct, when it shineth 
out upon the centre in a lineary motion without any ob- 
liquity ; broken, when it meets with some grosser body, so 
that it cannot shine outright, but is enforced to incline to 
one part or other, and therefore called a collateral or broken 
light ; reflex, when, lighting upon some more gross body, 
it is beaten back, and so reflects upon its first principle. 
Thus let the sons of men pretend ever so much to the love 
of God, their love is like a broken or reflecting love, seldom 
direct; broken, when it is fixed upon the things of this 
world; reflex, when it aims at self-interest; whereas the 
love of God is the only true love ; a direct love without 
obliquity ; a sincere love without reflection ; such a love as 
breaks through all impediments, and hath nothing in 
heaven but God, and desireth nothing on earth in compa- 
rison of him ; such a love as looketh upon the world by 



322 



LOVE. 



way of subordination ; but upon God by way of eminency.— - 
Spencer. 

What Alexander said of his two friends, Hephestion and 
Craterus, is made good in the practice of too, too many in 
these days. " Hephestion," says he, " loves me as I am 
Alexander, but Craterus loves me as I am king Alexander ;" 
so that the one loved him for his person, the other for the 
benefits he received by him. Thus, some Nathanaels there 
be that love Christ for his person, for his personal excel- 
lencies, for his personal beauty, for his personal glory ; they 
see those perfections of grace and holiness in Christ, that 
would render him very lovely and desirable in their eyes, 
though they should never get a kingdom or a crown by 
him. But so it is that most (which is to be lamented) do it 
only in respect of the benefit they receive by him ; scarce 
any love Christ, but his rewards ; some few there are that 
follow him for love, but many for the loaves ; few for his 
inward excellencies, many for his outward advantages; and 
few that they may be made good by him, but many that 
they may be made great by him. — Ibid. 

Light is the only object of our eye, for our eye was made 
to see the light ; but light is not only in the body of the sun, 
or moon, or stars, but by beams it doth insinuate itself into 
all these lower creatures, and presents itself in that great 
variety of colours wherewith this lower world is beautified. 
In seeing them, we see the light, and delighting in them, 
we take pleasure in the light from whom they have their 
gracefulness. Even so God is the proper object of our love, 
and his goodness must draw our abilities unto it ; and it is 
able to satisfy them to the full, though they to the full can 
never possibly apprehend it : so that out of the nature of 
God, we need not seek for any other object of our love : but 
because God is pleased to communicate himself unto his 
creatures, and frame the reasonable part of them according 
to his image, he would have our love to attend this com- 
municating of himself, and be bestowed on them whom he 
doth so grace : and this one so loving of others, our neigh- 
bours, ourselves, detracts nothing from that all which is 



LOVE. 



323 



due to God, because we do it by his direction, and our love 
dotli still reflect upon him, and in loving them, we love and 
admire him also. — Ibid. 

Wherever I have travelled, I could never judge of the 
height of any hill, but from the vale beneath. The height 
of God's eternal love in Christ is only to be seen when we 
descend into the depths of the vale of humility. 

How are our affections to be excited and maintained in 
lively exercises towards their object ? Is it by sitting down 
to muse upon how you have felt in former times, or how you 
are feeling now ? No, it is by thinking of your friend, by 
recollecting in your own mind, and recounting to others, 
his various excellencies, everything in him and about him 
that is fitted to attract, and fix, and strengthen attachment. 
So should it be of your heavenly Friend ; apply the illus- 
tration. Above all, dwell rather on his love to you, than 
on yours to him. 

" The spirit of love." Nothing will compensate for the 
want of this spirit in the christian ministry. The most con- 
clusive and undeniable argument followed up with the most 
pointed application, will in general fall powerless where the 
spirit of love puts not forth its influence. It is like the 
stormy wind and wave which idly beat on the iceberg, and 
leave no impression behind them ; but let the rays of the 
sun fall upon it, it thaws and melts under their influence. 
So the heart of man, hitherto impenetrable and frozen, dis- 
solves, and is subdued when the beams of love shine upon 
it. 

We must rejoice when we see the golden chain which 
links the different members of the body of Christ together 
is not weakened ; that amidst many differences of opinion 
among us, there is still a sound practical feeling of love to 
God, and good will to men. If, therefore, we see christian 
love struggling against the convulsions of the moment, and 
that it is not subdued by these convulsions, then we may 
believe, as the wind which shakes the oak of our country 
only strengthens and increases the nourishment it derives 
from the roots, so all disputes and agitations without will 
only strengthen the great work of religion in our hearts, 

y 2 



324 



LOVE. 



and give a lovelier influence to the blessed gospel of our 
Lord. — Chancellor Raikes. 

The sun appears red through a fog, and generally red 
at rising and setting. The red rays having a greater mo- 
mentum, which gives them power to traverse so dense an 
atmosphere, which the other rays have not — the increased 
quantity of atmosphere, which oblique rays must traverse, 
loaded with the mists and vapours which are usually formed 
at those times, prevents the other rays from reaching us. 
It is thus that but a few of the rays of God's love (like the 
red rays) reach the soul. Sin, passion, and unbelief, sur- 
round it as with a dense atmosphere of mists and vapours ; 
and though the beams of God's love are poured out innu- 
merable as the sun's rays, they are lost, and scattered, and 
few of them shine upon the soul. 

Love is the diamond among the jewels of the believer's 
breastplate. The other graces shine like the precious stones 
of nature, with their own peculiar lustre and various hues, 
but the diamond is white. Now, in white all the other 
colours are united ; so, in love is centred every other chris- 
tian grace and virtue ; " love is the fulfilling of the law." 
It is the only source of true obedience to the commands of 
God. If we love God, we must necessarily love that holy 
law which is a transcript of his divine mind and will. 

Some people would make religion to consist of little else 
than a self-denying course of the practice of virtue and obe- 
dience ; they make religion a house of correction work : no, 
no, I love the service of my God ; like the bird, I fly at 
liberty on the wings of obedience to his holy will. 

The love of God is not to be summoned into beino; or 
activity at a call. It is not by any simple or direct effort 
that you can bid it into any operation. You can say to the 
hand do this, and it doeth it, but we have no such mastery 
over the untractable heart. The true way of bidding an 
emotion into the heart, is to bid into the mind its appro- 
priate and counterpart object. If I want to light up resent- 
ment in my heart, let me think of the iujury which provoked 
it ; or if I want to be moved with compassion, let me dwell 
on some picture of wretchedness ; or to be regaled w T ith a 



LOVE. 



325 



sense of beauty, let me look out of myself on the glories of 
a summer landscape ; or 5 to stir up within me a grateful affec- 
tion, let me call to remembrance some friendly demonstra- 
tion of a kind and trusty benefactor ; or, finally, to rekindle 
in my cold and deserted bosom the love of God, let the love 
of God to me be the theme of my believing contemplation. 
— Dr. Chalmers. 

How can I strengthen the claims of filial love by" argu- 
ment ; much less the affection of a son to a mother, where 
love loses its awe, and veneration is mixed with tenderness ? 
What can I say upon such a subject? What can I do but 
repeat the ready truths, which, with the quick impulse of 
the mind, must spring to the lips of every man on such a 
theme ? Filial love ! The morality of instinct ! the sacra- 
ment of nature and duty ; or, rather let me say, it is mis- 
called a duty ; for it flows from the heart without effort, 
and is its delight, its indulgence, its enjoyment. It is 
guided, not by the slow dictates of reason ; it awaits not 
encouragement from reflection, or from thought ; it asks no 
aid of memory — it is an innate, but active consciousness of 
having been the object of a thousand tender solicitudes — a 
thousand waking watchful cares — of much anxiety and 
patient sacrifices, unremarked and unrequited by the object. 
It is a gratitude founded upon a conviction of obligations 
not remembered, but the more binding because not remem- 
bered ; because conferred before the tender reason could 
acknowledge, or the infant memory record them ; a grati- 
tude and affection which no circumstance should subdue, 
and which few can strengthen. Such is the believer's love 
to his God. Love full of tenderness — love deprived of fear. 
How does it bind him with the force of a sacrament — the 
alligation of love ! Yet how spontaneous does it flow forth 
without effort, and almost without a thought ! The enjoy- 
ment and delight of the soul — it is like an innate, inborn 
principle. Ten thousand are the obligations to this loye 
and gratitude which start forth at the bidding of memory, 
and ten thousand times ten thousand the mercies and bless- 
ings beyond the reach of memory, which bind the more 
because not remembered. 



326 



LOVE. 



The sincerity of God's heart and affection to his people 
appears in the unmoveableness of his love. As there is no 
shadow of turning in the being of God, so not in the love 
of God to his people ; there is no vertical point ; his love 
stands still like the sun in Gibeah, it goes not down, or 
declines, but continues in its full strength. — Isa. liv. 7, 8. 
With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the 
Lord thy Redeemer. Sorry man repents of his love, the 
hottest affection cools in his bosom ; love in the creature is 
like fire in the hearth, now blazing, anon blinking, and 
going out ; but in God, like fire in the element that never 
fails. In the creature 'tis like water in a river that falls and 
riseth ; but in God, like water in the sea that is always full, 
and knows no ebbing or flowing. Nothing can take off his 
love where he hath placed it ; it can neither be corrupted, 
nor conquered. 

Love is compared to fire, the nature of which is, to assi- 
milate to itself all that comes near it, or to consume them ; 
it turns all into fire or ashes ; nothing that is heterogeneous 
can long dwell with its own simple, pure nature. Thus love 
to Christ will not suffer the near neighbourhood of any- 
thing in its bosom that is derogatory to Christ ; either it will 
reduce, or abandon it, be it pleasure, profit, or whatever else. 
Abraham, who loved Hagar and Ishmael in their due place, 
when the one began to jostle with her mistress, and the 
other to jeer and mock at Isaac, he puts them both out of 
doors : love to Christ will not suffer thee to side with any- 
thing against Christ, but take his part with him against any 
that oppose him. 

True love unto Christ keeps the whole heart together, 
and carries it all one way ; and so makes it universal, uni- 
form, and constant in all its affections unto God ; for un- 
steadfastness of life proceeds from a divided or double heart. 
As in the motions of the heavens, there is one common cir- 
cumvolution, which, ex aequo, carrieth the whole frame daily 
unto one point from east to west, though each several sphere 
hath a several cross-way of its own, wherein some move 
with swifter, and others with slower motion ; so, though 
saints may have their several corruptions, and those like- 



LOVE, 



327 



wise in some stronger than in others, yet, being all ani- 
mated by one and the same spirit, they all agree in a steady 
and uniform motion unto Christ. If a stone were placed 
under the concave of the moon, though there be air, and 
fire, and water between, yet through them all it would 
hasten to its own place ; so, be the obstacles never so many, 
or the conditions never so various, through which a man 
must pass, " through evil report, and good report," through 
terrors and temptations, through a sea and wilderness, 
through fiery serpents, and sons of Anak ; yet if the heart 
love Christ indeed, and conclude that heaven is its home, 
nothing shall be able totally to discourage it from hastening 
thither, whither Christ the forerunner is gone before. 

Our love to our brethren is, " quoad nos," an " a poste- 
riori," — not only the evidence, but even the measure of our 
love to Christ. " He that loveth not his brother whom he 
hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen ?" 
saith the apostle. He that hath not love enough in him for 
a man like himself, how can he love God, whose goodness, 
being above our knowledge, requireth transcendency in our 
love? This, then, is a sure rule,— he that loveth not a 
member of Christ, loveth not him ; and he who groweth in 
his love to his brethren, groweth likewise in his love to 
Christ. For as there is the same proportion of one to five, 
as there is of twenty to an hundred, though the number be 
far less ; as the motion of the shadow upon the dial answer- 
eth exactly to that proportion of motion and distance w hich 
the sun hath in the firmament, though the sun goeth many 
millions of miles when the shadow (it may be) moveth not 
the breadth of a hand ; so, though our love to Christ ought to 
be a far more abundant love than to any of his members, 
yet certain it is, that the measure of our progress in bro- 
therly love is punctually answerable to the growth of our 
love to Christ ; and our love to Christ is as accurately mea- 
sured by it as the progress of the sun in the heavens is mea- 
sured by the dial. 

" If ye love me, ye will keep my word," saith our Saviour. 
But fear induces a desertion of our duty when there is a 
cross to be taken up. Just like a frost, it will hinder the 



328 



MAN. 



breaking forth of carnal lasts into notorious acts, as the cold 
of winter binds the earth, that noxious weeds cannot spring- 
up ; but love, like the summer heat, is productive of all good 
fruits. Love is like the child serving in his father's house, 
where the exactest obedience is voluntary, liberal, and inge- 
nuous, and without calculation for profit. Fear brings its 
mercenary service, cold, stinted and constrained, where all 
is done on the system of barter and exchange. Fear will 
be in action for a time, so long as motives are supplied to keep 
it alive ; but love is an inward principle that has life in it- 
self, and therefore is continually operative without regard to 
outward considerations. This secures obedience. Christ has 
fastened us to his service by a chain composed of his most 
precious benefits, and love delights to wear his easy and 
gentle yoke as a costly jewel on her breast. Fear tries in 
vain to make an alliance between the flesh and the spirit, 
obeys some commands and transgresses others ; such an 
union as that of two persons unequally yoked together. 
The language of fear is, how wearisome this service ; but 
love exclaims, while she fastens her eyes with adoring love 
and devotedness on her Saviour, " My Lord, and my God !" 

As the light of the sun diffused in the air burns nothing, 
but the beams contracted in a glass kindle proper matter ; 
so the considering of the common salvation will not be so 
affectino\ nor so warm and soften the heart, as the serious 

O ' 7 

applicative thoughts of it to ourselves. It is not the love of 
God which is common to all, and diffused like the sunbeams 
over the whole family of man ; but the love of God, con- 
centrated and burning on the cross of Christ for me a 
sinner, which fires and melts my heart — 'tis this—" he loved 
me, and gave himself for me." — Spencer. 



When the Almighty was about to create man, he sum- 
moned before him the angels of his attributes, the watchers 



MAN. 



329 



of his dominions. They stood in council around his hidden 
throne. Create him not, said the angel of truth ; " he will 
defile thy sanctuary with falsehood, though thou shouldest 
stamp on his countenance thine image, the seat of confi- 
dence." Create him not, said the angel of justice ; " he 
will depart from equity, he will oppress the weaker." 
Create him not, said the angel of peace ; " he will water the 
earth with blood, the first being of his race will be the 
slayer of his brother." So spake the angels of the attri- 
butes of Jehovah, when Mercy, the youngest and dearest 
child of the Eternal, arose, and clasping his knees, Create 
him, Father, said she, in thy likeness, the offspring of thy 
loving-kindness. When all thy messengers forsake him, I 
will seek and save him, and lead him back to good. Be- 
cause he is weak, I will incline his heart to compassion, and 
make for his sin atonement. When he departs from truth, 
from justice, from peace, the rod of my love shall chastise him, 
and soften his soul to repentance. The Father of all gave 
ear, and created man in his own image, while truth, and 
justice, and peace, shared together the throne of his heart. 
Envy looked up from her gloomy dwelling, and her face ga- 
thered blackness when she saw his bliss. Sin came with sor- 
row, and Death, in the train, and Truth, Peace, and Justice fled 
at their approach. Yet the child of man was not forgotten ; 
for when he fell, Mercy's arms were stretched out to save him. 
When the arrow of sin was rankling in his bosom, her hand 
brought balm to heal him, and hid with a robe of beauty 
the scar of his wound. When the tempest of sorrow hung 
over him, she looked from the cloud, and the sunshine of her 
smile painted it with the rainbow of hope. When Death 
appeared with his terrors, she was there, and gave him the 
victory : then, clasping her favourite in her arms, she bore 
him in triumph to the throne of her Father. Remember 
thine origin, O man ! when thou art hard and unkind to 
thy brethren. Mercy alone willed thee to be ; her love and 
her pity alone did nourish thee at their bosoms. 

It is beyond our conception the honour which man's 
nature was advanced to, when the Son of God assumed it, 
and took it into union with his divine person. Though it 



330 



MAX, 



had no intrinsic dignity or glory above what other intelli- 
gent, finite, sinless beings are capable of, yet it had a greater 
relative glory than any other creature had, or can have ; 
just as the body of man, how mean soever it is in itself, yet 
when considered in relation to the soul, that adds a degree 
of excellency to it, in a relative sense, greater than what 
belongs to every creature destitute of reason ; so the human 
nature of Christ, though it had not in itself a glory greater 
than what another finite creature might have been advanced 
to, yet, when considered as united to the divine nature, its 
glories, in a relative sense, may be said to be infinite. 

Man, without religion, is like a leaky vessel without 
hands on the tempestuous ocean. Sin has already made a 
destructive inroad in his nature, and the tide of corruption 
is daily flowing into, and filling his soul : he is tossed about 
without aid on the boisterous ocean of the world, till at last 
he breaks to pieces, and sinks to rise no more. He is a ship 
without a pilot — a vessel without a rudder. 

Man's deviation from his duty was, it seems, a disorder in 
the moral system of the universe, for which nothing less than 
divine wisdom could conceive a remedy ; the remedy devised 
nothing less than divine wisdom and power could apply. Man's 
disobedience was in the moral world, what it would be in 
the natural, if a planet were to wander from its orbit, or the 
constellations to start from their appointed places. It was 
an evil for which the regular constitution of the world had 
no cure, which nothing but the immediate interposition of 
Providence could repair. 

Dust may be raised for a while into a little cloud, and may 
seem considerable while held up by the wind that raises it ; 
but when the force of that is spent, it falls again, and returns 
to the earth out of which it was raised. Such a thing is 
man ; man is but a mass of dust, and must return to 
his earth. 

Geologists have discovered in the rocks composing the 
crust of the earth proofs of a regular succession of forma- 
tions ; and that animals of a different structure have been 
imbedded, and are preserved in their successive layers. In 
the earlier formed strata animals are found which are low, 



MERCY. 



331 



as we express it, in the chain of existence ; in higher strata, 
reptiles produced from eggs of great bulk and more com- 
plete structure are discovered ; above the strata containing 
these reptiles there are found mammalia, a higher class of 
animals ; and in the looser and more superficial strata are 
the bones of the rhinoceros, elephant, &c. And we add, 
geologists agree that man has been created last of all. From 
these facts it is supposed that there has been a succession 
of animals gradually increasing in the perfection of their 
structure ; that the highest and most perfect were not pro- 
duced under the first impulse of creative power, and that it 
was only in her mature efforts that these were created. And 
what a beautiful idea does this afford of the nature of man 
considered as immortal, with that nature ascending upwards 
to perfection! At first, in its dark, and unregenerate, and 
half lifeless state, corresponding with the animals we have 
noticed in the lowest chain of existence. Passing from this 
into the regenerate and spiritual state in which it begins to 
live to God — ascending still higher in the scale of spiritual 
existence from grace to grace — until it is called up from this 
lower world to be a spirit, to stand in the presence of God; 
and last of all, to shine resplendent in the full and perfect 
image of its Creator — of the first and highest order of 
created intelligences. 



When all means are strengthless and dead, and yet the 
mercy comes, " O," says a soul, " now I see that God is God 
Almighty, God all-sufficient." " She that is a widow and 
desolate," saith the apostle, " trusteth in God." We seldom 
trust in God till a desolation comes upon the means, then 
we learn to trust in God. So long as one who is learning to 
swim can touch the bottom, can touch the earth with 
his toot, he does not commit himself to the stream; but 



332 



MERCY. 



when he can feel no bottom, then he commits himself 
to the mercy of the waves. Now, so long as a man can 
stand upon the second cause, and can feel the bottom 
with his feet, he does not commit himself to the stream of 
mercy ; but when once the second cause is gone, and he 
cannot feel the bottom, then he commits himself to the 
stream of mercy. 

Appius, in the Roman story, was a very great oppressor of 
the liberties of the commons, and particularly, he took away 
all appeals to the people in case of life and death. Not 
long after this decree, he being called in question for forcing 
the wife of Virginius, found all the bench of judges against 
him, and was constrained, for saving his life, to prefer an 
appeal to the people, which was denied him with great 
shouts and outcries of all, saying, " He is forced to appeal, 
who, by barring all appeals in case of life and death, was the 
death of many a man." Thus, justice revenged mercy's 
quarrel upon this unmerciful man ; and certainly, if we 
expect mercy at the hands of God or man, we must show 
mercy ; for there shall be judgment without mercy to him 
that will show no mercy ; and that happeneth many times 
even in this life, when God is pleased to reckon with hard- 
hearted men that have no bowels of compassion. — Spencer. 

David, after his victory over the Philistines, calls Ziba 
before him, and asks him, whether there were not yet any 
man left of the house of Saul that he might do him a kind- 
ness for Jonathan's sake ; whereupon they presented unto him 
Mephibosheth, a poor lame impotent man, who no sooner 
sees the king, but falls on his face, and looks upon himself 
as a dead dog, far below the king's favour. " ~No matter," 
says the king, " fear not, for I will show thee kindness for 
Jonathan's sake," &c. And thus, if there be any forlorn 
Joseph that is fallen into the pit of despair, let him but cast 
up his eyes to the hills from whence cometh his salvation, 
and God will show him mercy for Christ Jesus' sake. If 
there be any lame impotent Mephibosheth, any wounded 
spirit, any of the household of faith that is distressed, God 
will inquire after them, and do them good for Christ Jesus 1 
sake. — Ibid. 



MERCY. 



333 



If a judge of an assize should say to a felon, or some 
malefactor in the gaol, Confess but your faults, and become 
an honest man, I will pardon you ; and not only so, but you 
shall be made justice of the peace, or some great man, 
whereby you shall have power to judge and examine others ; 
surely he would upon the promise be moved quickly to con- 
fess the felony, and forego his theft. Thus it is that the Judge 
of all the world makes great tenders of mercy, that if a sinner 
will truly and from his heart confess his sins, and resolve to 
leave them, he shall have pardon ; and not only so, but he shall 
be made a king and priest unto God the Father, an heir of 
God, and joint-heir with Christ Jesus. Rom. viii. 17. — Ibid. 

It is observable in Scripture, that God hath always had 
saints of several degrees and sizes, and that some of them 
have had more communion with him than others. From 
among the multitude he chose twelve to be with him ; from 
among the twelve he chose three, (Peter, James, and John,) 
which were of the privy council ; from among three he 
chose out John as his peculiar bosom favourite, of whom it 
is said five times, that he was the disciple whom Jesus loved. 
So now to this day God hath his babes, who eat milk and 
nothing else ; his children, who know their Father's will and 
are assured of his love ; his young men, who go out to war ; 
and the fathers in Israel, whose gray-headed experience and 
wisdom abound, for they knew him from the beginning. 
But is it not a great mercy to be one of God's, though but 
one of his little ones, yea the least of all : to be a star, though 
not of the first magnitude : to be a disciple, though not a 
John, nor one of the three, nor one of the seventy : but to 
be a John, to lean on his breast, to lie in his bosom, — O how 
great a mercy ! 'Tis mercy to be new born, though one be 
but newly, and as one newly-born ; but to grow up to a 
perfect stature, to be a man in Christ Jesus, — O how great a 
mercy ! — Ibid. 

" Now is the accepted time." Mercy is like the bow in the 
cloud which is seen only in the day. We look for it in vain 
in the night — it has vanished, and darkness is all around. 
So mercy, the most beautiful of God's attributes, is fully re- 
vealed, and shines above us in the glorious light of reve- 



334 



MEDITATION. 



lation, and faith is at band to point and direct our attention 
to her, now, all lovely and inviting : but the day of God's 
patience, and man's provocation is fast waning, the night is 
coming on, and then we shall look up, and, instead of the 
bow of mercy to guide us, we shall see clouds and darkness, 
storms and tempests mustering the wrath of the eternal God 
in the firmament of his power. 



J&etittatian. 

They usually thrive best who meditate most. Meditation 
is a soul-fattening duty ; it is a grace-strengthening duty. 
Guion calls it the muse of prayer. Hierome calls it his para- 
dise. Basil calls it the treasury where all his graces are 
locked up. Theophylact calls it the very gate or portal by 
which we enter into glory : and Aristotle, though a heathen, 
places happiness in the contemplation of the mind. 

Men that are sick and weakly in their bodies do not 
altogether abstain from food and physic, but rather use them 
that they may recover strength again : and though their 
appetite is small, yet they force themselves, that by eating a 
little, and a little, they may get a stomach. Shall a man that 
is dim-sighted shut the windows because the house is dark? 
shall he not rather open them to let in the light, that he 
may the better see to go about his business ? and the colder 
a man feels himself, the more needful he thinks it to come 
to the fire, or use some exercise, that so he may recover his 
natural heat. Thus, in like manner, the sight of our natural 
wants and weaknesses is not a sufficient plea to bar us from 
the exercise of divine meditation, but rather incite us there- 
unto, it being an excellent means to clear up our sight, to 
enlighten our minds with more knowledge, to get spiritual 
health and strength, and to warm our cold and frozen hearts, 
that so by God's assistance we may perform service unto 
him with more heat of godly zeal and fervour of devotion. — 
Spencer. 



MEDITATION. 



335 



As in heating of an oven, the fuel is set on fire, yet not 
without some pains to blow it up into a flame ; but after- 
wards, when the oven begins to be somewhat hot, the fuel 
will catch and kindle of itself ; and no sooner is it thrown 
in, but it is all in a blaze on a sudden. Such is the difficulty 
of meditation at the first ; when there is but (as it were) a 
little spark of love in the heart, it will cost a man some pains 
to blow it up into a flame ; but afterwards, when the heart 
is once heated with the flames of love, then it will inflame 
all the thoughts, and set the affections on fire, insomuch 
that the duty of meditation will not be only easy and 
delightful, but so necessary, that a man cannot tell how to 
avoid it. — Ibid. 

Meditation will give strength to our purposes. Reason is 
the strongest when it is most in action. Now meditation 
stirs up reason into act. Before, it was a standing water, 
which moves nothing else when itself moves not ; but now 
it is as the speedy stream which bears down all before it. 
Before, it was as the still and silent air, but now it is as the 
powerful motion of the wind, and overpowers the opposition 
of the flesh and of the devil. Before, it was as the stone, 
which lies still in the brook, but now, when meditation sets 
us to work, it is as the stone out of David's sling which 
smites down the Goliah of unbelief. That may be accom- 
plished by a weaker motion continued, which will not by a 
stronger at the first attempt. To run a few steps will not 
get a man heat, but walking an hour together may. So, 
though a sudden occasional thought will not raise our affec- 
tions to any spiritual heat, yet meditation can continue our 
thoughts, and lengthen our walk till our hearts grow warm. 

This duty is very advantageous. You know a garden 
that is watered by sudden showers is more uncertain in its 
fruit than when 'tis refreshed by a constant stream ; so 
when our thoughts are sometimes upon good things, and 
then run off ; when they do but take a glance, as it were, 
upon holy objects, and then run away, there is not such 
fruit brought into the soul as when our minds by medi- 
tation do dwell upon them. The rays of the sun may 
warm us, but they do not inflame unless they are 
contracted in a burning-glass ; so some slight thoughts 



336 



MEDITATION. 



of heavenly things may warm us a little, but will 
never inflame the soul till they be fixed by close meditation , 
Therefore David (who was an excellent man at this duty) 
tells us, his " heart was fixed," and saith the same concern- 
ing the frame of a good man. 

Occasional meditation is, when the soul spiritualises every 
object, when the understanding is like an alembic that dis- 
tils something from every object it sees and views, for the 
good of the soul. This is that spiritual chemistry that turns 
all metals into gold. Our blessed Saviour was a most emi- 
nent example of this ; he drew spiritual matter from natural 
objects ; the gospel is full of parables upon this account. A 
Christian should labour to see all things in God, and God 
in all things. Every stream should lead him to the foun- 
tain. Deliberate meditation is like the cultivation of an 
estate of which we know the value, and which yields to us 
a sure and certain profit. 

Occasional meditation will be a means to cure the most 
vicious part of our lives ; for what is the wickedest part of a 
man's life ? it is his vain thoughts. As in nature there is no 
vacuity or emptiness, but a vessel is either filled with liquor 
or the air ; now the more water you pour in, the more air goes 
out. So, if you would but store your souls with these occa- 
sional meditations, it would thrust out vain and wild thoughts. 
Oh ! 'tis a rare temper when a Christian is always upon the 
wing. When he is like the beams of the sun ; they touch 
the earth, but the body of the sun is fixed in heaven. So 
'tis with a Christian when he converseth with the world, but 
dwells in God. 

Continue to meditate till you find some sensible benefit 
conveyed to your soul. The nature of man has a great dis- 
relish of this duty, and we are apt to be soon weary of it ; 
our thoughts are like a bird in the cage, which flutters the 
more because of his confinement; so our thoughts are apt to 
run strayingly out when we confine them to such a duty as 
this is ; but he that begins, and doth not proceed, loses the 
benefit of the duty. As it is in the kindling of fire in wet 
wood, you know continuance is that which must cause the 
flame. When you blow at first, there's a little smoke arises ; 
by holding on, you raise sparks ; but he that goes forward, at 



MEDITATION. 



337 



last brings it to a flame. So 'tis in the duty of meditation ; 
when you begin to meditate upon spiritual things, at first 
you raise a smoke, a few sighs towards God ; by continuance 
you raise some sparks of heavenly desires ; but at last there's 
a flame of holy affections that goes up towards God. Now 
you should not ordinarily leave the work till the flame 
cloth so ascend. When a man goes forth in a calm and 
serene evening, and views the face of the heavens, he shall 
see a star or two twinkle and peep forth ; but if he con- 
tinues, both their number and lustre is increased, and at 
last he sees the whole heaven is bespangled with stars in 
every part ; so when thou dost meditate upon the promises 
of the gospel, at first it may be one star begins to appear, a 
little light conveys itself to thy heart ; but go forwards, and 
then thou will find, when thy thoughts are amplified and 
ripened, there will be a clear light ; more conveyed to thy 
soul ; and in continuance the covenant of grace will appear 
bespangled with promises as heaven with stars, and all to 
give thee satisfaction. 

As meditation opens the understanding, and presents 
truth to the mind, so it raiseth the affections. Knowledge, 
without meditation to warm the affections, is like the glanc- 
ing of a beam upon a wave — it fills it with a little clarity, but 
it doth not heal it ; so, when there are many notions of 
truth in the brain, if meditation doth not apply them to the 
heart, and fix them upon the soul, the affections have no 
warmth by them. Slight visions make shallow impres- 
sions. He that with a careless eye looks upon a piece of 
embroidery, does not see the curiousness of the work, and 
therefore doth not admire it. So when we with a running 
eye look upon the truths of the gospel, no wonder our affec- 
tions are not raised towards them. David, speaking con- 
cerning his meditation, says, " while I was musing, the fire 
burned, my heart was hot within me!' 'Tis musing makes this 
fire to burn. 

Meditation before prayer matures our conceptions, and 
quickens our desires. Our heart is like a watch that is soon 
run down, and needs constant winding up. It is an instru- 
ment ^that is easily put out of tune. And meditation is like 

z 



338 



MEDITATION. 



the tuning of an instrument, and setting it for the harmony of 
prayer. What is the reason that in prayer there is such a 
slight discurrency in our thoughts, that our thoughts are 
like dust in the wind, carried to and fro ; but only for want 
of meditation 1 What is the reason that our desires, like an 
arrow shot by a weak bow, do not reach the mark ? But 
only this, we do not meditate before prayer ; he that would 
but consider, before he comes to pray to the pure majesty of 
God, the thing that he is to pray for, pardon of sin, and the 
life of glory, how would this cause his prayers to ascend like 
incense towards God? The great reason why our prayers 
are ineffectual, is because we do not meditate before them. 
David expresseth prayer by meditation ; " Give ear to my 
words, O Lord, consider my meditation" 

Any benefit to be derived from hearing the word, exceed- 
ingly depends on meditation. Before we hear the word, 
meditation is like a plough, which opens the ground to re- 
ceive the seed, and after we have heard the word, it is like 
the harrow which covers the new-sown seed in the earth, 
that the fowls of the air may not pick it up : meditation is 
that which makes the word full of life and energy to our 
souls. What is the reason that most men come to hear 
the word as the beasts did in Noah's ark ? They came in 
unclean, and they went out unclean. The reason is, because 
they do not meditate on the truths they hear ; it is but just 
like putting money into a bag with holes, presently it falls 
out : so the truths they hear preached are put into shallow 
neglected memories, and they do not draw them forth by 
meditation, therefore hearing the word is so little effectual : 
it is said, " Mary pondered these things in her heart." Hear- 
ing the word merely is like indigestion, and when we medi- 
tate upon the word, that's digestion ; and this digestion of 
the word by meditation produces warm affections, zealous 
resolutions, and holy actions ; and therefore if you desire to 
profit by hearing the word, meditate. 

Meditation, as it advances the graces of the soul, so the 
comforts of the soul. God conveys comfort to us in a 
rational way ; and although he is able to rain manna in the 
wilderness, and to cast in comfort to our souls, without any 



MEDITATION. 



339 



labour of ours, yet usually he dispenseth comforts accord- 
ing to the standing rule. He that doth not work, shall not 
eat — he that doth not labour in the duties of religion, shall 
not taste the sweetness of religion. Now meditation is the 
serious and active performance of the soul to which God hath 
promised comfort. I will open this by this consideration. 
The promises of the gospel do not convey comfort to us as 
they are recorded in the word merely, but as they are ap- 
plied by meditation. I will illustrate it by this similitude. 
The grapes, while they hang upon the vine, do not produce 
that wine which cheers the heart of man ; but when they 
are squeezed in the wine-press, then they yield forth their 
liquor, which is of such a cheering nature. So the promises 
which are in the word barely, do not send forth that sove- 
reign juice which cheers our hearts; but when we ponder 
them in our souls, and press them by meditation, then the 
promises convey the water of life to us. There is an ex- 
pression of David which suits with this, Ps. lxiii. compare 
the 5th and 6th verses, " When I remember thee upon my bed 
and meditate on thee in the night-watches, my soul shall be 
satisfied as with marrow and fatness :" observe the connexion. 
Meditation turns the promises into marrow, it conveys the 
strength of them to our souls. One morsel of meat masticated 
and digested, dispenses more nourishment than a greater 
quantity that is swallowed down whole ; so one promise that 
is ruminated upon, and digested by meditation, conveys 
more comfort than a bundle of promises in the head that 
are not meditated upon, which we do not consider. Nay, 
consider this, the comfort which meditation brings is the 
most spiritual refined joy that we are capable of. It is 
spiritual meditation which rejoices the angelical part of our 
souls within us. Indeed meditation is that which makes a 
man to be a citizen of the new Jerusalem ; he can take a 
walk in the paradise of God every day, and pluck fruits off 
the tree of life, and draw water from the wells of salvation. 
He that performs conscientiously the duty of meditation, 
doth maintain such a correspondence with God as angels 
do : such a one doth enter into heaven by degrees and 
steps. 

z 2 



340 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



To have the benefit of meditation, we ninst labour for a 
pure heart. " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall 
see God." When they draw nigh unto him, he will mani- 
fest himself unto them. Sin defiles, and dims the soul. A 
soiled glass yields no clear representation of things; upon 
this account, because sin, as it darkens the understanding, 
so it unfits the soul to receive any benefit by this duty. 
That cloth which is white is receptive of any colour ; but 
that which is black will not change. So here, when the 
heart is cleansed and purified from the stains of sin, it will 
be moulded into the form of any truth the soul meditates 
upon ; but when the blackness of sin is there, it is not re- 
ceptive of any colour, except with difficulty. 

There are some points in religion which are chiefly specu- 
lative ; there are others which are more practical. Now as 
the tops of mountains are barren, but the humble valleys 
fruitful, so speculative points are barren, and the meditation 
of them is ineffective. There are some slight dishes which 
gratify the palate, but have no substance in them to feed 
and strengthen the body ; so there are some truths which 
though they are delicious, yet they do not produce holiness ; 
and although they may please the taste, yet they yield no 
solid nourishment to the soul. We lose much of the benefit 
of meditation, when we pitch our thoughts upon those ob- 
jects which are not most fruitful. Hence, meaner Christians 
often thrive more in holiness than those of richer gifts ; 
they meditate upon those objects most fruitfully in reference 
to their lives, and so they make a sensible progress in the 
ways of religion, whereas others are barren. 



JftmtstrB— JftTeans of fett. 



Gospel ministers do, indeed, in some sense, turn the world 
upside down. The fall of Adam has turned human nature 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



341 



upside clown long ago ; and converting grace must turn us 
upside down again, in order to bring us right. 

The archer first takes a view of his mark ; then considers 
the distance of the ground ; after that he carries his eye over 
all the shafts in his quiver, he pulls out, and puts in one 
after another, until he has made choice of his arrow ; then 
he proves it with his finger, and judges by his ear whether 
it be fit to fly to the mark : when he hath put his arrow into 
the bow, and begun to draw, if there come a gust of contra- 
diction in his way, he hath the discretion to bear with it till 
it have spent itself ; when the blast is over, he sets his foot 
to the ground, draws his arrow up to the head, and sticks it 
up to the feathers. Thus it is that preaching is a kind of 
artillery exercise, that requireth strength and knowledge, 
ministers a kind of archers, and the souls of men are the 
fairest marks that can be shot at ; but it so cometh to pass, 
that many, for want of growth to draw the bow of prophets 
and apostles, or want of skill to shoot, or care to shoot when 
they have taken their aim, many times miss the mark, being 
either short or wide, and so become despised. — Spencer. 

Two things are considerable in a minister, his sufficiency, 
but people take little heed to his authority ; and therefore 
come they to church rather to judge than to be judged, for- 
getting that many may be as skilful, but none can be so 
powerful, in " binding and loosing," as is the minister. A 
judge, or a justice of peace, may have less law in him than 
a private man, but he hath much more power, and they that 
appear before him regard his acts according to his power. 
So should it be in the church. But men fear the magis- 
trates that are under earthly kings, because the pains which 
they inflict are corporal ; our hands, our feet, feel their 
manacles and fetters. And did but our souls as truly feel, 
as indeed they should, the pastor's binding and loosing of 
them,. we should make more account of those offices than we 
do. And it were good we did so ; for they so bind as that 
they can loose again ; but if we neglect them, when our Lord 
and Master cometh he will command all contemners to be 
bound hand and foot, that they shall never be loosed again. 
— Ibid. 



342 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



It is a pretty story of Demosthenes ; when one told him 
that he was beaten and abused by such a man, it seems he 
told it very dreamingly and coldly, showing no affection at 
all. " Why," saith Demosthenes, " hath he beaten thee ? I 
do not believe it." " No !" saith the man, and so grew into 
a very great passion. " I am sure thus and thus he did to me, 
and do not you call this beating ?" " Nay," saith Demos- 
thenes, " now I believe that he hath beaten thee indeed, 
now thou speakest as if it were true what thou sayest." So 
when a minister preacheth unto people in a dreaming man- 
ner, standing in a pulpit as though he were saying of his 
lesson, though the things he saith be never so weighty, yet 
the people will not believe him ; but when he is earnestly 
zealous in God's message, when he preacheth as one having 
authority, then it is that the people's hearts may be said to 
burn within them. — Ibid. 

There are many in the kingdom to be found that could 
do the prince's errand ('tis like) as well as his ambassador, 
but none takes the place but he that is sent, and can show 
his letters credential. Those that are not sent and commis- 
sioned by God's call for the ministerial work, they may 
speak truth as well as they that are ; yet of him that acts 
by virtue of his calling we may say, that he preacheth with 
authority, and not like those that can show no commission, 
but what the opinion they themselves have of their own 
abilities give them. — Ibid. 

Our people complain that we are so much, so often 
reproving the same error or sin, and the guilt is their own, 
because they will not leave it : who will blame the dog for 
continuing to bark when the thief is all the while in the 
yard? Alas, alas ! it is not once or twice proclaiming against 
sin that will do it. 

Short hints and away may please a scholar, but not so 
profitable for others ; the one more fit for schools, but the 
other for the pulpit. Were I to buy a garment in a shop, I 
should like him better who lays one good piece or two before 
me that are for my turn, (which I may fully peruse,) than 
him who takes down all his shop, and heaps piece upon 



MINISTRY — MEANS OF GRACE. 



343 



piece merely to show his store, till at last, for variety, I can 
look wistfully on none, they lie so one upon another. 

A holy violence in preachers is but a true zeal for the 
souls of men, and if they do you violence it is no more than 
if they pull your arm out of joint, when to save you from 
drowning they pull you out of a river ; and if you complain, 
it is no more to be regarded than the outcries of children 
against their rulers, or sick men against their physicians. 

To expect perfection in ministers is to except against the 
wisdom of God. In a pipe which conveys water into a 
house there may be such a flaw as will sometimes admit 
some dust or earth to mix itself with the water ; will you 
therefore reject the water itself, and say, that if you may 
not have it just as it ariseth in the fountain, you will not 
regard it, when you live far from the fountain itself, and 
can have no water but what is conveyed in pipes liable to 
such defects? 

Memorable is the story of Pyrrhus, a merchant of Ithaca, 
who on a time seeing an aged man captive in a pirate's 
ship, took compassion on him, and redeemed him, and with 
him bought likewise his commodity, which the pirate had 
taken from him, being certain barrels of pitch. The old 
man perceiving that not for any service that he could do 
him, nor for the gain of his commodity, but merely out of 
charity Pyrrhus had done this, presently discovered unto 
him a great mass of treasure hidden in the pitch, whereby 
he grew exceeding wealthy, having not without divine pro- 
vidence obtained an unexpected blessing for so good an act 
of piety. Now, if God so bountifully requite the redemption 
of a poor old man from a corporal servitude, how much 
rather should every man contend to the utmost of his power, 
ministers in the pulpit, magistrates on their benches, masters 
in their families, every one by a good example to win a soul 
unto God, to redeem his brother from the thraldom of 
Satan, which is to save a soul from death ! And for which 
they shall be honoured with the name of saviours, and their 
reward shall be, that they shall shine like stars, for ever and 
ever. — Ibid. 

A minister has a variety of cases to attend to, and much 



344 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



care and attention must be given to this matter, or many of 
the flock committed to him will be neglected. He is like an 
artist who has a number of unfinished portraits in different 
stages of perfection to attend to. Or, suppose a sculptor sur- 
rounded by his busts : if he should give all his attention to 
a few, which were already highly advanced, it is evident 
that those figures which he had done but little with must be 
neglected. On the other hand, if he should confine his 
attentions to the latter, those on which he had been so long 
employed would never be finished ; while, if he gave all 
his time to those he had made some progress with, it is 
certain that no new work of art could be entered on. But 
should he have a rage to be always beginning new busts, 
and forgetting the others, none of his works could be car- 
ried forwards to their necessary completion. Thus, let a 
minister give only strong meat, and preach to the more 
advanced Christians ; they who need only the milk of the 
gospel must suffer from want of their proper food. If he 
attend only to the latter, and leave out the deep things of 
God, the former class must stand still. Should he preach 
only to the Lord's people, the unconverted must be aban- 
doned to their fate. And lastly, should he (like too many) 
preach only, or almost so, to the latter, then it is equally 
certain that the members of Christ's flock must be griev- 
ously neglected. He is " the wise steward who giveth to 
every one their meat in due season," who declares the whole 
counsel of God. 

The duty of " in any wise rebuking our neighbour, and 
not suffering sin upon him," should be considered ^as an 
ordinance to which Christ has a special regard. But how 
much more is it incumbent on the pastor of a flock! Sup- 
pose a shepherd to be in attendance upon his flock. He 
will be careful to provide for them good pasturage and 
waters ; and when one pasture is consumed he will drive 
them into another. All their wants will be attended to. 
But let one or two sheep break their fences, and wander 
far away, his care and attention will be immediately directed 
towards them. He will not consider it sufficient to have 
attended them on the whole as a flock, but he will not lose 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



345 



sight of the stragglers till he has brought them back (if pos- 
sible) into the fold. Just so, it is not enough for God's 
ministers to exhort the flock in general, and warn and con- 
demn them in his public ministrations — but he must be 
privy to the secret faults and backslidings of the individual 
members, and follow them to their dwellings with the hope 
of reclaiming them by showing to them their transgressions. 
This is not to pry curiously into his people's failings ; much 
less maliciously to search into doubtful unknown things ; 
but to exhibit a shepherd's care and watchfulness, without 
which he can carry out but half of his ministerial office. 
And let the people especially give heed that they respect 
this ordinance of a rebuker, and despise not Christ in his 
ministering servant. 

The apostle saith, that ministers of God are " worthy of 
double honour," and doubtless the very heathen shall rise 
up in judgment against many who profess the truth, in this 
respect ; for the heathen themselves did show so much 
honour to their devilish priests, that one of the Roman 
consuls seeing a priest and some virgins going on foot, and 
him riding on his chariot, descended, and would not go into 
it again, till those diabolical votaries were first placed ; nay, 
the very kings and emperors in Greece, Egypt, Rome, &c, 
thought it one of the greatest honours to be withal the 
priests of the people. Amongst the Christians, when the 
Synod of Nice was assembled at Constantine's command, 
and some accusations, or (as the historian calleth them) 
calumniations, were presented to the emperor against some 
bishops and ministers, he looked not on the particulars, but 
sealed them up with his own signet ; and having first re- 
conciled the parties, commanded the libels to be burnt, 
adding withal, that if he should himself see a bishop in 
adultery, he would cover his nakedness with his own royal 
robe ; " Because," saith he, " the sins of such men ought 
not to be divulged, lest their example do as much hurt to 
the souls of others, as their fact to their own : for as a good 
life is necessary for themselves, so is their good fame neces- 
sary for others." — Spencer. 

There is a record, that that holy martyr of Jesus Christ, 



346 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



Bishop Latimer, having, in a sermon at court in the days of 
Henry the Eighth, much displeased the king, he was com- 
manded next Sunday after to preach again, and make his 
recantations. According to appointment he comes to 
preach, and prefaceth to his sermon with a kind of dialo- 
gism in this manner : " Hugh Latimer, dost thou know to 
whom thou art this day to speak ? — to the high and mighty 
monarch, the king's most excellent majesty, &c, that can 
take away thy life if thou offend ; therefore take heed how 
thou speakest a word that may displease but as it were 
recalling himself, " Hugh, Hugh," saith he, " dost thou 
know from whence thou comest, upon whose message thou 
art sent, and who it is that is present with thee, and be- 
holdest all thy ways ? — even the great and mighty God, that 
is able to cast both body and soul into hell for ever ; there- 
fore look about thee, and be sure that thou deliver thy 
message faithfully," &c, and so comes on to his sermon; and 
what he had delivered the day before, confirms and urges 
with more vehemence than ever. The sermon being ended, 
the court was full of expectation what would be the issue of 
the matter. After dinner the king called for Latimer, and 
with a stern countenance asked him how he durst be so 
bold as to preach after that manner ? He answered and 
said, that duty to God and his prince had enforced him 
thereunto, and now he had discharged his conscience and 
duty both, in what he had spoken, his life was in his 
majesty's hands. Upon this the king rose from his seat, 
and taking the good man from his knees, embraced him in 
his arms, saying, he blessed God that he had a man in his 
kingdom that durst deal so plainly and faithfully with him. 
Thus did but all men, especially ministers, such as are 
immediately employed by God, seriously take notice of his 
omnipresence, and continually remember how his eye is 
always upon them, O how diligent ! how confident ! how 
abundant would it make them in the work of the Lord ! 
how faithful ! how courageous ! how unbiassed ! how above 
the frowns and smiles of the greatest of the sons of men ! — 
Ibid. 

There is a story of Demosthenes, who, speaking to the 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



347 



Athenians on a very serious matter, and finding them not 
regarding his words, interrupted himself, and told them that 
he had some special thing to relate, to which he would fain 
have them to attend : whereupon silence being made, that 
which he told them was this : " Two men," saith he, 
" having bargained for the hire of an ass, were travelling 
from Athens to Megara in a very hot day ; and both 
striving to enjoy the shadow of the ass, the one said that 
he hired the ass and the shadow too ; the other said, he 
did but hire the ass, and not the shadow." Thus leaving 
them at strife, Demosthenes went away ; but the Athenians 
called him with great eagerness to come back, and to end 
the tale. Upon his return, that which he said was this : 
" O ye Athenians, will ye attend unto me speaking of a 
shadow and an ass, and will ye not attend unto me speaking 
of the most important things ?" Now how justly may this 
be the reproof of many in our days, such as tithe-mint, 
anise, and cummin, and let pass the more substantial 
fruits of the law, such as have an ear for vanity, but not 
for truth; that attend to things of folly, but not to the 
matters of salvation ; hence it is that wisdom cries out in 
the streets, and few regard it; but if folly once appears, 
there will be many to follow her instructions. — Ibid. 

If a man have the atrophy, a disease so called, so that his 
food affords no nourishment, what strength and vigour of 
body and senses is this man like to have ? Indeed, he may 
well eat more than a sounder man, and the small abode that 
it makes in the stomach may refresh it at the present, and 
may help to draw out a lingering, languishing, uncomfort- 
able life. Thus many hearers there are that are sick of 
this disease ; what they hear is quickly forgotten ; perhaps 
they hear more than otherwise they needed, and the clear 
discovery, and lively delivering of the truth of God may 
warm and refresh them a little whilst they are hearing ; but 
perhaps an hour or two after, it may be, may linger out 
their grace in a languishing, uncomfortable life. But if they 
did hear one hour, and meditate seven, if they did as 
constantly ruminate and digest their sermons as they 
hear them, they would find another manner of benefit by 



348 



MINISTRY — MEANS OF GRACE. 



sermons than the ordinary sort of many forward Christians 
do. — Ibid. 

Two walking together found a young tree laden with 
fruit ; both did gather and satisfy themselves for the pre- 
sent. One of them took all the remaining fruit, and carried 
it away with him ; the other, seeing him gone with the fruit, 
took up the tree itself, and planted it in his own ground, 
where it prospered, and bore plentifully every year : the 
first had more fruit at the present, but the other sped 
best ; for he had fruit when the other had none. Thus it is 
with men at the hearing of sermons, some have large me- 
mories, and can gather many observations which they keep 
awhile to rehearse, not to practise. Another hath a weaker 
capacity ; but he gets the tree itself, the root and substance 
of the text, plants it in his heart, feeds on the fruits with 
comfort, and his soul is thereby nourished unto life eternal. 
— Ibid. 

As market folk returning from the market will be talking 
of their markets as they go by the way, and be casting up 
their accounts when they come home, reckon what they 
have taken, and what they have laid out, and how much 
they have gotten ; so should we, after we have heard the 
word publicly, confer privately of it with others ; at least 
meditate on it by ourselves, how we have profited that day 
by the word that hath been spoken to us, and also by our 
religious exercises that have been used by us. And as the 
market-man counteth that but an ill market-day that he 
has not gained somewhat more or less, so may we well ac- 
count it an ill sabbath-day to us whereon we have not pro- 
fited somewhat, whereon we have not increased our know- 
ledge, or been bettered by our affections ; whereon we have 
not been either informed in judgment, or reformed in prac- 
tice ; whereon we have added nothing to our talent. — 
Ibid. 

Mark the jailors; they often suffer their prisoners to 
have their hands and feet free, neither are they in any 
fear that they will make an escape, so long as the prison 
doors are sure locked and fast barred. Thus dealeth Satan 
with those men that he holdeth in his captivity. He letteth 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



349 



them sometimes have their hands at liberty to reach out an 
alms to the poor ; and sometimes their feet at liberty to go 
to church to hear the word preached ; but he will be sure to 
keep their ears, which are the gates and doors of their 
soul, so close made up, that they shall hear nothing to their 
comfort ; and if they go, it shall be to little purpose. — 
Ibid. 

Many men take no pleasure in flowers, nor care any 
further for them than to look upon them, smell to them, 
and have them in their hands ; but the bees draw honey 
from them, both honey and wax ; and the skilful apothecary 
maketh many medicines of them against divers and sundry 
diseases. Thus, many hear sermons only for their pleasure, 
for the elegance of their style, delicacy of the words, smooth- 
ness of the language, and gracefulness of the delivery ; 
this is but to make a nosegay to smell to for a while, and 
cast it anon after into a corner ; to " hear the word gladly," 
but in time of temptation fall away. — Ibid. 

Grace is contented with the simplicity of the gospel ; gifts 
are not contented therewithal. And therefore you shall 
observe that the Corinthians, who excelled in gifts, adul- 
terated the gospel with their swelling words. The Galatians 
adulterated the doctrine of the gospel, and mingled the 
doctrine of the gospel with justification by works. The 
Corinthians mingled the words of the gospel with their own 
swelling language. They had gifts, and they were not con- 
tented with the simplicity of the gospel. Ay, but grace is. 
You see how it is with a child that comes into a corn-field ; 
he is mightily taken with the blue or red weeds, or the 
daisies that grow there; but now when a man comes — 
the husbandman comes, he looks at the corn, and is not so 
much taken with the blue and red weeds, or the company 
of daisies, but is taken with the corn itself. So now take a 
man that hath gifts only, and bringhim to a sermon or a 
prayer ; and if there be any fine expressions, any daisies, he 
is much taken with them ; he prizeth, and magnifieth them, 
and he hangs on them. But now bring a man that hath 
grace to a prayer, or to a sermon, and he looks at the 
corn ; he doth not look at the daisies so much, but at the 



350 



MINISTRY — MEANS OF GRACE. 



spirituality and power of those things that are there 
delivered. 

The atmosphere, or that body of air which encompasses 
our globe forty-five miles every way, is equally important to 
the life of animals, and to the vegetation of plants. But it 
would quickly cease to answer these valuable ends, were it 
not for the additional influence of the sun. Whereas, in 
subordination to that, and as a medium between that and 
us, it ministers every moment to our best temporal interests. 
Thus, the ordinances of the gospel are to be numbered 
among those streams which gladden the church of God, 
when he makes them the vehicles of his own power and 
presence to the soul. Abstracted from the converting, and 
cherishing operations of the Holy Ghost, the best means of 
grace would infallibly leave us (as a sunless atmosphere 
would leave the earth) no less cold and unanimated than 
they found us. 

It is probable that Venus, like Mercury, has no attending 
satellite, or moon. Cassini, indeed, in the last century, 
thought he had discovered one ; but he seems to have been 
mistaken. Venus's vicinity to the sun seems to render the 
services of such a companion unnecessary. Just as in the 
world of the blessed, the saints will need no ministry of the 
word, nor other means of grace; because they will then 
walk in the light of the Lamb, and with open face behold 
the glory of the Lord. 

Success in spiritual things, as well as in temporal, is made 
to depend on diligence. The words of our Saviour are, 
" Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find.". Sup- 
pose we should come to an extensive common which must 
be crossed in the way to a city seen in the distance, and 
found it intersected by paths going in various directions, 
each path so obstructed by briers and thorns, that its route 
could scarcely be traced : suppose we there saw two travel- 
lers, both professing a desire to reach the city ; one dili- 
gently tries every path that appears to lead in the right direc- 
tion, and when he finds the one he is in diverging to the 
right hand or the left, he quits it, and tries another. " If I 
keep my eye steadily fixed on the city," he says, " I know 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



351 



I cannot go far out of the way ; and hope, at length, to find 
a straight path leading to it." This man, you would say, 
acted in a rational manner. But what would you think of 
the traveller, if you saw him, with his back to the city, con- 
tentedly walking in a path that evidently led in a direction 
exactly opposite ? He might tell you that it was impossible 
for him to discover the right path ; that he hoped he might 
find some one to show it to him, and in the mean time he 
did not think it signified what direction he walked in. 
Would you think the conduct of this man rational ? And 
yet such is the conduct of many who profess they wish to 
become real Christians, while they constantly employ them- 
selves in matters that lead them away from Christ, and 
foster the corruptions of their hearts. 

There is mention made of a prince in Germany, who, 
being invaded by a more potent enemy than himself, yet 
from his friends and allies (who flocked unto his help) he 
soon had a goodly army, but had no money, as he said, to 
pay them ; but the truth is, he was loth to part with it ; for 
which cause some went away discontented, others did not 
vigorously mind his business, and so he was soon beaten out 
of his kingdom ; and his coffers (when his palace was rifled) 
were found to be filled with treasure. And thus was he 
ruined, as some sick men die, because unwilling to be at 
cost to pay the physician. Now so it is, that few or none 
are to be found but would be glad their souls might be 
saved at last ; but where is the man or woman that makes 
it appear by their vigorous endeavour that they mean in 
earnest? What cost or expense will they put themselves 
to ? What will they part with ? What warlike preparation 
do they make against Satan, who lies between them and 
home? Where are their arms, where their skill to use 
them, their resolution to stand to them, and conscionable 
care to exercise themselves daily in the use of them ? Thus 
to do is a rarity indeed ; if woulding, and wishing would 
bring them to heaven, then they may likely come thither ; . 
but as for this diligence in the ways of God, this circum- 
spect walking, this wrestling and fighting, this making re- 



352 



MINISTRY MEANS OF GRACE. 



ligion our business, they are as far from these, as at last in 
so doing they are like to be from heaven. — Spencer. 

How early do men rouse up their servants to their 
labour ! " Up, come away to work, we have this to do, and 
that to do ;" but how seldom do they call them, " Up, you 
have your souls to look to, you have everlasting life to pro- 
vide for ; up to prayer, to the reading of the Scriptures ! 
Alas, how rare is this language ! What a gadding up 
and down the world is here, like a company of ants upon 
a hillock, taking incessant pains to gather a treasure 
which death, as the next passenger that comes by, will 
spurn abroad ; as if it were such an excellent thing to die in 
the midst of wealth and honours ! Or, if it would be such a 
comfort to a man at death, or in another world, to think that 
he was a lord, a knight, or a gentleman, or a rich man on 
earth ! And as a man whose spirits are seized on by some 
pestilential malignity is feeble and faint, and heartless in all 
that he does, so the spirits of these men being possessed by 
the plague of this malignant worldly disposition — 0 how 
faint are they in secret prayer ! 0 how superficial in exami- 
nation and meditation ! 

The various ordinances are the props, and stay of a gra- 
cious spirit, and serve for its support. Brambles will grow 
of themselves, and need no assistance, — but the vine needs a 
prop. Dogs and wolves may wander far and wide abroad, — 
but sheep need the fold. 

Most men go away with the husk and shell of an ordi- 
nance, and neglect the kernel, please themselves because 
they have been in the courts of the Lord's house, though 
they have not met with the living God. This is sad ! A 
traveller and merchant differ thus. A traveller goes from 
place to place, that he may see and be amused ; but a mer- 
chant goes from port to port, that he may take in his lading, 
and grow rich by trade. So a formal person goes from ordi- 
nance to ordinance, and is satisfied with the work ; a godly 
man looks to take rich lading, that he may go away, and 
take with him some of the spiritual wealth of the sanctuary ; 
go from God with God, that he may meet God here, and 



MINISTRY — MEANS OF GRACE. 



353 



there, in this duty and in that. A man that makes a visit 
only by constraint, and not by friendship, it is all one to him 
whether the person be at home or not, but another would be 
glad to find his friend there ; so if we are not formalists, but 
come to God from a principle of love in these duties, our 
desires will be to find the living God. 

Without ordinances there can be no spiritual wealth or 
prosperity in the church. Deprive the church of her fre- 
quent ordinances, and she will resemble a magnificent and 
extensive estate, loaded with the most abundant crops, but 
without any barns standing on it where the produce may 
be gathered in. Here, however fertile the soil, or however 
the finest skill in agriculture may be brought into play, all 
must fall into loss and ruin. So, though the church is 
rich in promises, in the gifts and graces of the Spirit, and in 
her continual Intercessor, yet without her frequent ordi- 
nances and means of grace all her spiritual treasures would 
remain unappropriated, and the members of her body would 
be starved, and perish in the midst of plenty. 

Outward observances, indispensable as they are, are not 
religion ; they are its aliment, but not its life : the fuel, but 
not the flame; the scaffolding, but not the edifice. 

To condemn God's ordinances for not effecting profit in 
us, and not rather to look for the cause in ourselves, is as if 
some one should imprudently accuse that physic for useless 
and unfit, that is not suffered to work by the incapacity, the 
ill diet, the weak stomach, or some evil accident of the 
patient. 

If the wounded Jew in the parable should have cast away 
the twopence which the Samaritan left to provide for him, 
it had been an argument that he neither regarded him nor 
his kindness. And it was a sign that Esau loved not God, 
because he esteemed not his birthright. Thus the true love 
of God is far from us if we set not a high esteem upon his 
ordinances, those pledges of his favour which he hath left 
with us, to wit, the word and sacraments ; the word, wherein 
we hear him speak lovingly, — and the sacraments, wherein 
we see him speak comfortably to us ; the one to heal us of 

A A 



354 



MEANS. 



our wounds, the other, an earnest of the blessings which we 
had forfeited by sin.— Spencer. 



Overlooking the connexion between means and end, men 
make the rewards of virtue dependant on chance. Their 
deception in regard to means is the facility with which fancy 
passes along the train of them, glances at the accomplish- 
ment, overlooking the successive stages, the labour and 
hazards of reprotracted, slow process from each point to the 
next. If a given number of years are allowed requisite for 
the accomplishment of an object, the thoughtless vaults 
from one last day of December to another, and seizes at 
once the whole product of all the intermediate days, without 
condescending to recollect, that the sun never shone yet on 
three hundred and sixty-five days at once, and that they 
must be slowly told, and laboured one by one. If a favour- 
ite plan is to be accomplished by means of a certain large 
amount of property to be produced from what is at present 
a very small one ; the calculation of a sanguine mind can 
change shillings into guineas, and guineas into hundreds of 
pounds a thousand times faster than in the actual experiment 
these lazy shillings and guineas can multiply themselves. It 
is thus when men think they can at once attain to, and step 
into those habits, feelings, and principles which are of slow 
and difficult attainment. They forget that religion is a 
plant of slow growth, and requires much time to bring forth 
" fruit unto perfection." 

In vain do the inhabitants of London go to their conduits 
for supply, unless the man who has the master-key turns the 
water on. And in vain do we think to quench our thirst 
at ordinances, unless God communicates the living water of 
his Spirit. 

As presumptuous sins are the thieves that with a high hand 
rob the Christian of his comfort, so sloth and negligence 
are the rust that in time will fret into his comfort, and eat 



MEANS. 



355 



out the heart and strength of it. It is impossible that the 
Christian who is careless and secure in his walking, infre- 
quent or negligent in his communion with God, should long 
be owner of much peace and comfort. What if thou dost 
not pour water of presumptuous sins into the lamp of thy 
joy to quench it, 'tis enough if thou dost not pour oil of duty 
to feed and maintain it. Thou art a murderer to thy comfort 
by starving it, as well as by stabbing it. 

A just consideration of the nature of the soul would show 
us the value and importance of a sound and judicious treat- 
ment of it. The soul is a living creature ; and all analogies 
teach us that the principle of life in every living thing can 
only be supported by its own peculiar aliment, and its health 
maintained by studying its economy. In the body there is 
a continual wasting and reparation of its substance going on. 
It is the same with the soul that is alive unto God. With- 
hold food, and rest, and exercise from it, and the strongest 
body will decay ; withhold from the soul the means of grace, 
and it will decay. If prophesying be despised, the spirit 
will be quenched : 1 Thes. v. 19, 20 : yea, " where there is no 
vision the people will decay;" yea, if we do not daily by all 
good means exhort, and stir up ourselves, we are in clanger 
of being hardened. Again, as it is with the body, by poi- 
soning, or wounding it, the life of it, if it be not destroyed, 
yet will be endangered, the health and strength of it greatly 
impaired ; so it is with the soul, by sinning against con- 
science (which is as poison, and a stab to it) it is greatly 
impaired. See this in the case of David and Peter, after 
they had yielded once to sin against conscience they grow 
weaker and weaker. And though the soul that is born 
again can never die, yet it may receive such bruises and 
wounds as to live on under the loss of the sense of God's 
favour, which is to the believer more than all the world. 
Ps. iv. 6, 7 ; Cant. i. 2. 

Long interruptions in the use of our religious duties will 
hinder the fruits of them ; when there are gaps and strides 
between the performance of duties, we lose the benefit of 
them. As it is with our bodies, if a man make a free and 
liberal meal, this will not maintain his body to-morrow, and 

a a 2 



356 



MORTIFICATION. 



a clay after ; but he must have constant food, else nature 
languishes and decays ; so if you are delighted to-day. but 
should neglect to be so for many days after, you will lose 
the benefit of it, and the soul decays and languishes. If 
the bird leaves her nest for a long space, the eggs chill, and 
are not fit for production; but when there's a constant incu- 
bation, then they bring forth; so, when we leave religious 
duties for a long space, our affections chill, and grow cold : 
and are not fit to produce holiness and comfort to our souls : 
but when we are constant in this work, then shall we find 
the advantage of it. 

Suppose a physician who is sent for to a sick patient 
should give the messenger an electuary to carry with him, 
and saith, " It will be some time before I come myself to the 
sick man, but charge him to take a good quantity of this as 
oft as he finds himself ill every day till I come, and he shall 
do well." Now the patient begins to follow his physician's 
directions, but staying longer than he likes before he come-, 
and finding his trouble continue, sets it aside, and takes no 
more of it. The physician at last sets forth, and as he is on 
his way to him, hears of it, and turns back, and comes not 
to him ; so the poor man dies by his own hasty folly. Such 
is the folly of him who neglects perseverance in prayer, and 
constant diligence in the use of those means which God has 
prescribed for our recovery from sin, and growth in grace.— 
Spencer. 



Jftorttftcatton. 

A living member is not burthensome to the bodv. A 
man's arms are not any burthen to him, though otherwise 
massy and weighty ; but a withered arm, or a limb morti- 
fied, hangeth like a lump of lead on it. Thus, so long as 
sin liveth in the soul, not destroyed, and unmortified as yet, 
so long our corruption is nothing at all cumbersome unto 
us ; but when it is once mortified in a man, it beginneth to 



MORTIFICATION. 



357 



grow burthensome unto him, and to hang like a lump of 
dead flesh on his soul, and then beginneth the poor man, 
pestered, and oppressed with the weight of it, to cry out 
with the apostle, " 0 wretched man that I am ! who shall 
deliver me from the body of this death ?" Rom. vii. 24. — 
Spencer. 

There were two altars in Solomon's temple ; one in the 
outer court, where beasts were sacrificed ; in the inner court, 
an altar of incense : the first represented mortification, or 
the slaying of our bestial appetites ; the other, the offer- 
ing up our prayers, which will not be pleasing unless our 
impurities are removed by the first sacrifice ; without our 
spirit be mortified, we can neither love to pray, nor God 
love to hear us. 

Mortification is a part of religion which seems so indis- 
pensable for the health and prosperity of the inner man, 
that nothing will compensate for its neglect. Our graces 
can hardly flourish without it. Like the tree of Araby, 
which must be lanced before it gives forth plentifully its 
odoriferous ffums, so the soul must be mortified before it 
can distil the sweetness of its virtues. 

Carnal men pretend they can as easily stop the circula- 
tion of the blood as mortify their sensual inclinations. But 
the command is plain and peremptory, to pluck out the 
right eye, and cut off the right hand. The impotency to 
obey lies in obstinacy, and unwillingness to follow this 
command of Christ. If one was warned of the danger of 
carrying gunpowder in his pocket, he could not reasonably 
complain if he was afterwards burnt from its explosion. 
Thus, if a man continues to feed his carnal affections, 
they become like gunpowder, a spark sets all on fire. So 
the traveller complained of the roughness of the w r ay when 
a thorn in his foot made it uneasy. And carnal men com- 
plain 'tis impossible to obey the gospel, but their lusts 
make it so. Let the thorn be extracted, and the way is 
pleasant. Now its commands w ill not be counted grievous, 
and Christ's yoke will become a gracious yoke. 



358 



NEW BIRTH NEW CREATURE. 



Nefo 33i'tf&— Nefo Creature. 

To enjoy the bliss of heaven, we must have an inward meet- 
ness,as well as an outward righteousness. At Christ's second 
coming the Lord will only expand and enlarge that divine 
principle which the Holy Spirit now puts into the soul. He 
who is born again of the Spirit, is, by receiving a divine 
nature, as much made meet for the kingdom of heaven as a 
child who is born alive is, at its birth, made meet for living 
in this lower world. The child then possesses, though in 
an infantine state, a mind, will, and affections, all the 
parts of the body, soul, and spirit, which are essential in its 
after life. It is like the acorn, having the seed which is to 
germinate into all the grandeur of the future oak. Thus it 
is with him who is born of the Spirit. He is now made 
partaker of the divine nature ; and that nature, its Divine 
Author will more and more unfold, and strengthen, till it 
is fully perfected by beholding him. 

As seed virtually contains in it all that afterwards pro- 
ceeds from it — the blade, stalk, ear, and full corn in the ear; 
so the first principle of grace implanted in the heart seini- 
nally contains all the grace which afterwards appears, and 
the fruits, effects, arts, and exercises of it. 

One of the worst features of evil which belong to an un- 
converted state, is the unconsciousness of its condition. This 
natural disease so pervades the whole of the moral system, 
that, like the equal j)ressure of the atmosphere on a body, 
it is felt nowhere. But if you disturb this in part by the 
simple process of an air-pump, the pressure on the other parts 
will be intolerable, as the equilibrium will be destroyed. 
And so it is with the human mind — let but the sleep of spi- 
ritual death be disturbed by doubts, and fears of safety, and 
immediately there is consciousness and pain : let but the light 
of divine truth shine into the heart of an ungodly, uncon- 



NEW BIRTH NEW CREATURE. 



359 



verted man, to give unto him the knowledge of the glory of 
God in the face of Jesus Christ, and immediately his disease 
is discovered, and its pressure sorely felt. Self-loathing, and 
distress are the symptoms that attend the new birth. 

There is a class of persons who openly betray their shame 
and folly, and manifest their utter indifference to their bap- 
tismal vows, and the work to which it calls them. Another, 
aroused perhaps from this condition, go zealously to work to 
purchase their salvation — to fabricate repentance and faith 
by their own power alone. Self-confident, self-sufficient, 
and filled with spiritual pride, they think to turn their own 
hearts to God, without receiving any new life from him. 
Brought back from their wanderings on one side, away they 
go immediately upon the other, in an error as dangerous, 
nay, as fatal as before. For after all it makes little differ- 
ence, whether a man give up the kingdom of heaven alto- 
gether, or attempt to enter it without being " born again." 
In either case he continues dead in trespasses and sins. The 
difference is that of a corpse with all the offensive accompa- 
niments of death upon it — and that of a dead man em- 
balmed, and his nakedness covered with goodly clothing ; 
in the one case he lies in acknowledged lifelessness — in the 
other, his cadaverous form is clothed in the garments, and 
placed in the attitude, of life, so as to exclude the idea of 
death ; but stiffened limbs, and a countenance of deathlike 
expression in the mummy, betray its case. No, we must he 
horn again of the Spirit. 

The early Christians have told us that in the first ages of 
the gospel, when an adult came to be baptized, he put off his 
old clothes before he went into the water, and put on new 
and clean raiment when he came out of it, to signify that 
he had put off his old and corrupt nature, and his former 
bad principles and corrupt practices, and become a new man. 
Have I " put off the old man," &c. ? Alas ! I lament that 
there is so little of the spirit of the virtues of Christ about 
me. It shall not be always thus, so that " though we have 
lain among the pots, we shall appear as doves, whose wings 
are covered with silver, and their feathers with yellow gold." 

In all the works of God, order, beauty, and proportion 



360 



NEW BIRTH NEW CREATURE. 



are evidently to be seen, and every particular part contributes 
to the beauty of the whole. This is remarkable in every object 
which we behold. That would be a most uncomely tree which 
was all branches and no leaf, or branches and leaves, and no 
flowers or fruit where we looked for it. In the human 
frame the different parts are beautifully ordered, connected, 
and proportioned. The new man in Christ is not less per- 
fect and beautiful. A Christian is not a monster in form, 
but all his component parts have their being and growth 
together ; they are beautifully connected and proportional. 
Like the different members of the same body, all the graces 
of the spirit are connected with Christ the head. True, one 
grace may be called into action more than another, and gain 
more strength, but no one grace grows alone. Those graces 
which act more immediately towards God in Christ will be 
accompanied by those corresponding graces which influence 
our conduct towards mankind. If we love God, we shall 
love man. If we are really humble before God, we shall be 
humble in our outward conduct towards our fellow-creatures. 
It is vain to pretend that we are really humbled before God, 
if our conduct towards man is proud and assuming. Then 
the order, beauty, and proportion of the new creature will 
appear, when it is with grace, as with the other works of God. 

When the new convert opens his eyes to behold the 
moral wilderness and wreck which sin has made of all the 
noble faculties of his soul, he sees within himself a resem- 
blance to winter, when no verdure quickens, and no fruits 
adorn the season. But in the spring, when, under the influ- 
ence of a reviving temperature, fresh vitality seems infused 
into all the springs of nature, he may see a type of those 
beams of an eternal spring which now shine upon his soul, 
and which only serve to burst the buds, and unfold the blos- 
soms of the fruits of righteousness. In this great restora- 
tion of nature we may discover a type of the soul's passing 
from a state of moral desolation to a new creation bursting 
into life. But what solace can the unconverted sinner 
derive from such reflections, or indeed from anything in this 
life-giving season. Nature only rises up to condemn him. 
It proclaims that the wintry curtain of spiritual death and 



NEW BIRTH NEW CREATURE. 



361 



sleep still hangs over his soul. The leaves and flowers, the 
birds and breezes, and the balmy skies around him, can 
yield him no pleasure as long as he reflects that he must at 
length awake from his dream of folly, but only to learn the 
dreadful truth that for him eternity has no second spring. 

Should the affections and the will want gracious princi- 
ples, the new creature must want a heart — the old heart will 
not serve the turn — the new man is but half a man without 
a new heart. There was put into the breast-plate of judg- 
ment the urim and thummim — lights and perfections, both 
were in it, else it would not have been perfect. The full 
substance of this type was only in Christ, who was full of 
all grace and truth ; but there is an increase of it in every 
true Christian who puts on the breast-plate of faith and love. 
Faith is a kind of urim in his understanding, and love is a 
kind of thummim in his will — both together make up his 
complete breast-plate. But if there were not a gracious 
principle in his will and affections, we should have a urim 
without a thummim, light in the mind without integrity in 
the heart, and in consequence he could be but one-half of 
a Christian. 

It is said of Argo, (the then royal sovereign of the Asiatic 
Seas,) that being upon constant service, she was constantly 
repaired, and as one plank or board failed, she was ever and 
anon supplied with another that was more serviceable ; 
insomuch that at last she became all new, which caused a 
great dispute among the philosophers of those times, whe- 
ther she were the same ship as before, or not. Thus it is, 
that for our parts we have daily and hourly served under 
the commands of sin and Satan ; made provision for the 
flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof ; the most of us have drawn 
iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with cart- 
ropes, and daily like Ephraim increased in wickedness, inso- 
much, that there are not only some bruises and brushes, but 
as it were a shipwreck of faith and all goodness in the frame 
of our precious souls. What then remains, but that we should 
die daily unto sin, and live unto righteousness, put in a 
new plank this day, and another to-morrow ; now subdue 
one lust, and another to-morrow ; this day conquer one 



362 NEW BIRTH NEW CREATURE. 

temptation, and the next another ? Be still on the mend- 
ing hand, and then the question need not be put, whether 
we be the same or not : for old things being put away, 
all things will become new : we shall be new men, new 
creatures, we shall have new hearts, new spirits, and new 
songs in our mouths, be made partakers of the new covenant, 
and at last inheritors of the new Jerusalem. — Spencer. 

There stood forth a magnificent yew-tree in a church- 
yard. Mid-winter had stripped every branch besides. Oaks 
and elms stood bare with spreading arms sturdily resisting* 
the gale, and the tall naked poplar waved wildly before its 
breath. It was then that the fine outline of the ancient 
yew-tree appeared in fuller and bolder relief against the 
sky. It stood a green and flourishing thing, where all else 
was but wreck and deformity. How could you look upon this 
noble spread of unwithering branches from a poor decayed 
and broken trunk that seemed only fit for fire-wood, with- 
out seeing in it the work of God bringing life from the dead ? 
It typified the garden of the new creation rising from the 
wreck and ruin of the soul that has been struck with the 
death of sin. " Son of man, can these bones live ?" Both 
are alike the miracles of creation. 

Men can admire a statue ; it is breathing with life, and the 
fire of genius has succeeded in imparting almost animation 
to the figure. You remember that once it was but an un- 
meaning block of marble, but the sculptor's imagination 
has succeeded in portraying a man, and the human face 
divine meets your enraptured eyes. You are filled with 
rapture and astonishment at the power of genius to call forth 
such a beautiful creation of art. And have you no eyes to 
see, nor heart to appreciate, the noble work of God in the 
new creation of a soul that was dead in trespasses and sins ? 
That man was once a blank in the creation of God ; he was 
spiritually dead, but now he has a soul instinct with the 
breath of Heaven, which lives for its Maker, which hears 
and obeys his voice, and beats high with the generous senti- 
ments of redeeming love. It is a soul that is restored to its 
original place in the creation, fulfilling the high purposes of 
its God, and glowing with ardour to live for his honour and 



NATURE. 



363 



glory. It has not, like the statue, the mock appearance of 
life ; it is not a beautiful illusion of your fancy, which 
vanishes at one effort of your sober reason. It has not its 
useless and inanimate form to reign, and hold its empire 
only in your imagination. No ! look on it, it is the living 
work of God ; it has his own resemblance imparted to it ; it 
is immortal, and destined to run an endless race of glory, to 
the everlasting praise of the infinite Jehovah — behold it — 
angels are enamoured with it, and yet you, who can break 
forth in rapture at that lifeless statue, can see no beauty 
here ; no loveliness to draw forth your love ; no admiration 
of this soul " born of God !" 



Nature. 

The natural man is a spiritual monster. His heart is 
where his feet should be, fixed upon the earth; his heels are 
lifted up against heaven, which his heart should be set on. 
His face is towards the kingdom of Satan, his back towards 
the kingdom of God. He loves what he should hate, and 
hates what he should love ; joys in what he ought to mourn 
for, and mourns for what he ought to rejoice in; glories in 
his shame, and is ashamed of his glory ; abhors what he 
should desire, and desires what he should abhor. 

It is with the more noble principle in man, the immaterial 
spirit, that an intercourse with God is maintained ; and had 
not this immaterial part of man yielded subjection to the 
hostile enemy, that which is highest in dignity would have 
been imperative in authority, and have kept both soul and 
body in due subordination ; but man in his fallen condition 
is like a republican state, where the lowest of the people bear 
rule ; so that the intellectual and spiritual faculty, instead of 
carrying the majestic sceptre, may be likened to a captured 
monarch enslaved by his hostile subjects. And it is against 
this disorganized state of things that the Apostle prays> 
1 Thess. v. 23. 

If a ship, launched, rigged, and with her sails spread, can- 



364 



NATURE. 



not stir until the wind come fair, much less can the timber 
that lies in the carpenter's yard hew, and frame itself into a 
ship. If a living tree cannot grow but by a communication 
of sap from the root, much less can a dead stake in the 
hedge, which has no root, nor vegetating principle, live of its 
own accord. In a word, if a Christian who hath the spiritual 
life of grace in him from God cannot even exercise that life 
without the continual influx of strength from above ; then, 
surely, one void of this new life, and dead in trespasses and 
sins, can never be able to beget grace in himself, or concur 
in the production of it.. 

By nature, we are all weavers and spinners. We shut 
our eyes against the garment ready wrought ; and like silk- 
worms, we shall die and perish in our web, if the spirit of 
God does not unravel it for us, and lead us to the righteous- 
ness of Christ. 

It is said of Antonius, archbishop of Florence, that after 
he had heard the confession of a wretched murderer, he 
gave no other absolution than this : " G od be merciful to thee 
if he please ; and forgive thee thy sins, which I do not be- 
lieve ; and bring thee to eternal life, which is impossible if 
God doth not wonderfully work a strange conversion in thy 
heart." And such, and so sad is the condition of every unre- 
generate man, every impenitent sinner ; they are no other 
than bond-slaves of Satan, firebrands and vessels of wrath, 
men " without God in the world," while they are in the 
condition of nature. ~No wonder, then, that as long as they 
continue in such a wretched estate, God cease to be merciful 
unto them, deny them forgiveness of sins here in this life, and 
admission into his kingdom of glory hereafter. — Spencer. 

There is a fable, how that Inconstancy would needs have 
her picture drawn, but none would undertake it because her 
face and shape altered so often ; but at length Time took a 
pencil in hand, and because he had no other table to do it 
upon, he printed her picture upon man. And most true it 
is, that all men and women since that time have had too 
much of her resemblance, and too many men have her very 
face to the life; they will be religious, and they will not be 
religious; there's nobody knows what they will be, nor 



NATURE. 



365 



what to make of them ; they are constant in nothing but 
inconstancy ; they have their gales of devotion, their breath- 
ings of love one while ; at another time, when the fit is upon 
them, there is nothing but dulness of affection ; now, faith- 
ful to their promise ; anon, fallen off for one by respect or 
other. — Ibid. 

A chain that is made up of coarse gold may be made to 
outvalue that which is made up of finer ; not in respect of 
the nature and perfection of the gold, but because there is a 
very rich jewel fixed unto it. So the angelical nature may, 
in respect of its pure and undefiled quality, be said to excel 
that which is human ; yet the human in another way excels 
it, because there is that sparkling diamond of the Divine 
nature fastened unto it — The Word made flesh, the Son of 
God made like unto the son of man in all things, (sin only 
excepted,) passing by the angels, taking the seed of Abraham, 
Heb. ii. 16. — Ibid. 

Orpheus, in the Poet, had no sooner tuned his instrument, 
but all the birds and beasts assembled ; and forgetting their 
several appetites, though some were of prey, some of game, 
some of quarrel, yet they stood altogether in a sociable man- 
ner listening unto the sweetness of the music, the sound where- 
of was no sooner ceased, or drowned by some louder noise, 
but every beast returned to his nature, ready to devour, and 
be devoured one of the other. Such is the nature and con- 
dition of man, lawless and ill-advised, full of savage and un- 
reclaimable desires of profit, lust, power, and revenge ; yet 
as long as he gives ear to precepts, laws and religion, sweet- 
ly touched with eloquence and divine persuasions, so long 
is nature restrained and peace maintained ; but if these in- 
struments be silent, or that dislike of the truth, and the 
wholesome restraints of religion make them not audible, 
then all things dissolve into anarchy and mere confusion. — 
Ibid. 

As it is with the fighting of two fencers on the stage, you 
would think at first they were in earnest ; but observing how 
wary they are where they hit one another, you may soon 
know they do not intend to kill one another ; and that 



366 



NATURE. 



which puts all out of doubt, when the prize is done, you shall 
see them merry together, sharing* what they have got from 
their deluded spectators, which was all they sought for. 
Thus you shall have a carnal heart, a man in the state of 
unregeneracy, make a great bustle against sin, by complain- 
ing of it, or praying against it, so that there seems to be a 
great scuffle betwixt Satan and such a soul ; but if you follow 
him off the stage of duty, you shall see the devil and him sit 
as friendly in a corner as ever. — Ibid. 

As among the weeds of unmanured earth some are painted 
with alluring colours, but they are only weeds still ; so among 
the fruits of unsanctified minds one may carry a more specious 
appearance than others ; but they are all, spiritually consi- 
dered, no other still than sins and vices, the growth of " the 
carnal mind, which is enmity against God." 

A mountain stream, whose pure and salubrious waters are 
continually polluted by the daily washing and cleansing of 
poisonous minerals, is a just emblem of the flesh, whose 
desires, imaginations, and affections, were once pure and 
healthy, but is now like a troubled and corrupted spring 
which is always sending out bad water. Just as the good 
nature of an angel is always bringing forth good motions and 
desires, so the evil nature of fallen creatures is as plentiful 
the contrary way, ceaselessly bursting out into bad and per- 
nicious motions and lusts. 

There is a moral truth and uj)rightness, which we may 
call a field-flower, because it may be found growing in the 
wild and waste of nature. 

The various calls of God by his grace, gospel, and provi- 
dence, these, perhaps, cross the life of man as the breeze 
crosseth the ocean ; which, uncongenial in its nature, cannot 
coalesce with it, which may sweep and desolate, may agitate 
the surface, but can make there no permanent impression, 
can exercise no alterative and transforming power upon its 
nature. This is the work of the Holy Spirit. 



OBEDIENCE. 



367 



If conscience be enlightened, and faithful in the trial, a 
man cannot deliberately deceive himself: he must know 
whether his resolutions and endeavours be to obey all the 
will of God ; or, whether, like an intermitting pulse, that 
sometimes beats regularly, and then falters, he is zealous in 
some duties, and cold, or careless in others ? Saul would 
offer sacrifice, but not obey the divine command to destroy 
all the Amalekites : for his partiality and hypocrisy he was 
rejected of God. But 'tis the character of David, he was a 
man after God's own heart, in that he did all his will. 'Tis 
not the authority of the lawgiver, but other motives that 
sway those who observe some commands, and are regardless 
of others. A servant that readily goes to a fair or a feast 
when sent by his master, and neglects other duties, does not 
his master's command from obedience, but his own choice. 
Sincere obedience is to the royalty of the divine law, and is 
commensurate to its purity and extent. 

To go to duty, not because God puts forth his hand to 
lead me, but because he holds forth his precept to command 
me, is pure obedience. As when a general commands his 
army to march, if then the soldiers should stand upon 
terms, and refuse to go, except they have better clothes, 
their pay in hand, or the like, and then they will march ; 
this would not show them an obedient, disciplined army : 
but if, at the reading of their orders, they presently break up 
their quarters, and set forth, though it be midnight when 
the command come, and they without money, clothes on 
their backs, leaving the whole care of themselves for these 
things to their general, and they only attend how they may 
best fulfil his commands, these may be said to march in 
obedience. Thus, when a believer, after a faithful use of 
means finds his heart dead and dull, yet in obedience to the 
command, though the sense of his inability is so great that 
he questions whether he shall have power to fulfil God's 



368 



PERFECTION. 



will, yet resolutely sets himself to the work, this is an obe- 
dient soul, and may hope to meet God in his way with that 
which he cannot carry with him : as the lepers, who, when 
they went, in obedience to Christ's command, to show them- 
selves to the priest, were cured by the way, though they 
saw nothing of it when they set forth. 

How doth it affect and take the father when he bids his 
little child go and bring him such a thing, (that may be as 
much as he can well lift,) to see him not stand, and turn 
from the command as hard, but run to it, and put forth his 
whole strength about it ; though at last, maybe, he cannot 
do it, yet the willingness of the child pleases him so, that 
his weakness rather stirs up the father to pity and help him, 
than provokes him to chide him. Christ throws this cover- 
ing over his disciples' infirmities, — " the spirit is willing, 
but the flesh is weak." O ! this obedience, that, like the 
dropping honey, comes without squeezing, though but 
little of it, tastes sweetly with God ; and such is sincere 
obedience. 

Though weakened through the flesh, God may justly 
command his fallen creatures to keep his commandments 
diligently. If we have lost our power, there is no reason 
God should lose his right. If your servants should fall into 
habits of drunkenness, would you admit this for a plea for 
neglecting your business, or coming short in it ? At such 
times he is unable to do his master's work, but he is bound 
to it. It is altogether unreasonable that another should 
suffer through my default. 



Have you seen the tulip-bed in the garden of the florist ? 
have you marked the gorgeous colours, the rich variety, the 
delicate pencilling ? All these gay flowers were once of one 
dark dingy hue. Year after year did the gardener watch 
them, tend them, transplant them from soil to soil, till at 



PERFECTION. 



369 



length, one by one, some sooner and some later, they broke 
into these glorious hues, this boundless variety of stripe and 
freckle. Then did he remove them to his choicest border, 
and shelter them from sun and shower; and now thou 
gazest on them in their beauty. Thus dark and unlovely 
once were the redeemed of the Lord ; such pains and 
watching did he bestow upon them ; year after year did he 
look for the lovely graces- of the Spirit in them, till one, 
and another, not all at once, like the tulip, but by degrees, 
oftentime slow and painful, shone forth in the beauty of 
holiness. And thus hath he transplanted them to his 
heavenly courts, where, never scorched by the sun, nor 
smitten by the shower, nor torn by the winds, they shall 
bloom for ever and ever. Those that be planted in the 
house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. 
Ps. xcii. 13. 

Meteors, soon after their first appearing, make the 
greatest show. A fire of thorns, as soon as it is kindled, 
gives the fairest blaze, and makes the most noise and crack- 
ling, and both of them decrease by little and little, till they 
disappear; whereas the morning light shineth more and 
more unto the perfect day. Mushrooms come to their per- 
fection in one night's growth, but trees of righteousness of 
God's right planting are still in growth, and bring forth 
most fruit in old age. Ps. xcii. 14. Summer fruits are 
soon ripe, and soon rotten ; and winter fruits last longer. 
Infants in the womb that make more haste than good 
speed prove abortive ; whereas those that stay their time, 
come to their growth by degrees. And thus it is, that we 
must think to aspire unto perfection, but in a gradual way ; 
not imagine that we can the first day, and in the beginning 
of our first conversion, attain unto it ; for as no man is made 
the worst at first, no man is made the best all at once ; 
which made a good old Christian cry out, I would not upon 
the sudden attain to my highest pitch, but grow towards it 
by little and little. — -Spencer. 

The whole fabric of the universe, the courses and ordina- 
tions both of providence and grace, compose only one unde- 
viating system of means, and are by no means a final cause 

B B 



370 



PERFECTION, 



or end, either in whole or in part. In proof of this we may 
observe, there is no rest or resting place in the visible or 
elementary creation ; all things fluctuate, and move onwards, 
either to produce or to establish something beyond them- 
selves, and these in their turn act over the same or similar 
operations for others. The earth is ever undergoing rest, 
and continual changes, whether on its surface or its com- 
ponent materials : the ocean enlarges in one place its boun- 
daries, in another it is narrowed and contracted : in the vast 
kingdom of nature, whether in minerals, plants, or earthy 
substances, one production seems only designed to prepare 
the way for another, and continued succession. Conse- 
quently, nothing here has attained its own proper end, but 
is restlessly urged to a plus ultra. So the apostle : " The 
whole creation travaileth," &c. And thus it is in the king- 
dom of grace. Grace itself, with all its operations and 
objects, here passes through the world as through a strange 
country, and passes on for consummation and rest to a futu- 
rity of glory. 

There is a relative perfection of holiness, according to the 
several conditions of the saints in this life. As in a garden 
there are trees that produce different fruits, and of different 
degrees of goodness ; the vine, the fig-tree, the apple-tree ; 
if an apple-tree produce the best fruits of its kind, though 
not equal to the fruit of the vine, 'tis perfectly good. Thus, 
in the world there are several conditions of life among men : 
some are in places of dignity and superiority ; others of sub- 
jection and service. A servant that is faithful and diligent, 
adorns the gospel, and excels in that relation, and is equally ac- 
cepted of God, as others in a higher order. He that gained 
two talents was esteemed as faithful as he that gained five, 
because the profit resulting from the improvement was in 
proportion to the stock entrusted with him. 

There is a perfection relative to the various spiritual states 
of Christians here. St. John addresses his counsel to Chris- 
tians under several titles, to children, to young men, and 
fathers, with respect to their different ages in Christianity. 
A child is perfect in the quality of a child, when he has the 
stature, the strength, the understanding that is becoming 



PERFECTION. 



371 



his age, though he is distant from that complete state to 
which he will arrive in his mature age. A young man has 
the perfection proper to his age. A new convert that has 
such degrees of knowledge and holiness as are suitable to 
the means, and his time of advancement by them, is esteemed 
complete in that state of grace. Some are entered into the 
school of heaven, and are in the first lessons of Christianity ; 
others have made a higher progress in it, to the fulness of 
the stature. 

It is the nature of all the works of God's creation to seek, 
and to go on to, their perfection. The first dawn of morn 
continues to increase until it shines in the noontide radiance. 
The feeble plant which is just breaking the clod, continues 
to grow until in the course of years it stands a flourishing 
and a stately tree. In the animal kingdom we see God's 
creatures gradually emerging from the weakness and insig- 
nificance of infancy, and rising, where no obstructions exist, 
into the vigour and maturity of age. And shall the light 
go on to perfection, the plant and the flower to blossom, the 
tree to bring forth its fruit ; and all God's creatures grow 
up and flourish each its own perfection — and grace — the 
immortal plant of grace — "the incorruptible seed," which 
is to " live and abide for ever," — this little tree of the Lord's 
own planting — shall this alone be denied the benefits of 
God's universal law, — let all things grow until the harvest ? 
No ! grace has its destined perfection. True grace is a seed 
which, though sown in a lowly soil, will soon manifest its 
heavenly origin. It will infallibly spring forth, and be ever 
aspiring to ascend upwards, until it climbs the skies, and, 
there transplanted, shall bloom in the courts of the Lord 
for ever. 

There is something very fine in the thought, which lifts up 
man from his native nothingness and insignificance — of that 
advancement in holiness which he is destined to attain. We 
may conceive the Creator well pleased in seeing himself 
surrounded by his intelligent creatures, whom he has re- 
deemed out of the hand of sin and Satan, growing up in the 
likeness of their Maker. Like two mathematical lines, (the 
curve and its assymptote,) which have the well-known 

b b 2 



372 



PERSEVERANCE. 



but remarkable property of always approaching one another, 
yet never coming into contact : so the soul is destined to 
draw nigher and nigher to God, in the likeness and 
image it bears to him, yet never to reach his excellen- 
cies. There is something exceedingly ennobling in the 
thought of the soul's march from glory to glory in the ages 
of eternity, unceasingly going forwards, and aspiring in her 
upward flight after God, to reach him, to be wholly like him; 
yet by an eternal law which binds the creature, though still 
shining brighter and brighter, and putting on more of his 
likeness, yet never reaching to the attainment of his perfec- 
tions. 



The promises stand as the mountains about Jerusalem, 
never to be removed : the weak as well as the strong Chris- 
tian is within the line of communication. Were saints to 
fight it out in open field by the strength of their new grace, 
then the strong were more likely to stand, and the weak to 
fall in battle ; but both castled in the covenant are alike 
safe. 

The Duke of Alva having given some prisoners their lives, 
they afterwards petitioned him for some food. His answer 
was, that " he would grant them life, but no meat." And 
they were famished to death. The deniers of final persever- 
ance represent the Deity in a similar view. ".God pro- 
mises eternal life to the saints if they endure to the end ;" 
but he will not secure to them the continuance of that grace 
without which eternal life cannot be had ! 

"Blessed for ever and ever," says Hooker, "be that 
mother's child whose faith hath made him the child of 
God. The earth may shake, the pillars thereof may trem- 
ble under us, the countenance of the heavens may be 
appalled, the sun may lose his light, the moon her beauty, 
the stars their glory ; but concerning the man that trusted 
in God, if the fire have proclaimed itself unable as much as 



PERSEVERANCE. 



373 



to singe a hair of his head ; if lions, beasts ravenous by na- 
ture and keen by hunger, being set to devour, have, as it 
were, religiously adored the very flesh of a faithful man ; 
what is there in the world that shall change his heart, over- 
throw his faith, alter his affections towards God, or the affec- 
tion of God to him ? If I be of this note, who shall separate 
between me and my God ? Therefore, the assurance of my 
hope I will labour to keep as a jewel unto the end ; and by 
labour, through the gracious mediation of his prayer, I shall 
keep it." 

There are some who tell us that " a man may persevere 
until he comes to die, and yet perish in almost the very 
article of death :" and they illustrate this doctrine by the 
simile of " a ship's foundering in the harbour's mouth." It 
is very true that some wooden vessels have so perished. 
But it is no less true, that all God's chosen vessels are in- 
fallibly safe from so perishing. For, through his goodness, 
every one of them is insured by him whom the winds and 
seas, both literal and metaphorical, obey. And their insu- 
rance runs thus : " When thou passest through the waters, 
I will be with thee : and when through the rivers, they shall 
not overflow thee." " The ransomed of the Lord shall return 
and come to Zion, with songs, and everlasting joy upon their 
heads :" so far from from foundering within sight of land. 

There are no marks of shipwrecks, no remnants of lost 
vessels, floating upon that sea which flows between God's 
Jerusalem below, and the Jerusalem which is above. If a 
man were cast into a river, we should look upon him as 
safe, while he was able to keep his head above water. The 
church, Christ's mystic body, is cast into the sea of the 
world, (and afterwards into the sea of death ) ; and Christ their 
head keeps himself aloft, even in heaven. Is there, then, 
any fear or possibility of drowning a member of this body? 
If any should be drowned, then either Christ himself must 
be drowned first, or else that member may be dissevered 
from Christ : both which are impossible. By virtue, there- 
fore, of this union, we see that on Christ's safety ours de- 
pends. If he is safe, so are we. If we perish, so must 
he. 



374 



PERSEVERANCE. 



Even an earthly parent is particularly careful and tender 
of a dying child ; and surely, when God's children are in 
that situation, he will (speaking after the manner of men) 
be doubly gracious to his helpless offspring, who are his by 
election, by adoption, by covenant, by redemption, by re- 
generation, and by a thousand other indissoluble ties. 

Don't tell me of your feelings. A traveller would be 
glad of fine weather ; but if he be a man of business, he will 
go on. Bunyan says you must not judge of a man's haste 
by his horse ; for when the horse can hardly move, you may 
see by the rider's urging him what a hurry he is in. 

The Lord's blessing of an adopted people is an irreversible 
thing, because he is God and not man, and therefore cannot 
repent, nor call in the promise which he hath made ; for 
which purpose " he doth not behold iniquity in Jacob, nor 
perverseness in Israel." If the sun should be always im- 
movably fixed in one place, as it was a little while in 
Joshua's time, at the destruction of the kings,--though I 
might shut out the light of the sun from me, yet, as soon as 
I remove the curtain, the sun is still where it was, ready to 
be found, and to shine upon me. The case were lament- 
able with us, if, so often as man provokes God's justice, he 
should presently revoke his mercy ; if the issue of our sal- 
vation should depend upon the frailty and mutability of our 
own nature, and our life should be in our own keeping. If the 
pure angels of heaven fell from their created condition, to 
be most black and hideous adversaries of the God that made 
them ; if Adam stood not firm with all that stock of strength 
and integrity of will which he had in paradise ; how can I, 
who have so many lusts within, so many enemies without, 
such armies of fears and temptations round about me, be 
able to resist and stand ? Grace inherent is as mutable in 
me as it was in Adam ; Satan, as malicious and impetuous 
against me as against Adam ; propensions to sin, and falling 
away, strong in me, which were none in Adam ; snares as 
many, weaknesses more ; enemies as many, temptations 
more. From the grace which is deposited in mine own 
keeping, I cannot but depart daily, if the Lord should leave 
me in the hand of mine own counsel : even as water, though 



PERSEVERANCE. 



375 



it could be made as hot as fire ; yet, being left unto itself, will 
quickly reduce and work itself to its own original coldness 
again. We have grace abiding in our hearts, as we have 
light in our houses, always by emanation, effusion, and sup- 
portance from the Sun of Righteousness which shines upon 
us. Therefore this is all the comfort which a man hath 
remaining, that though I am wanting to myself, and do 
often turn from God, yet he is not wanting to me, nor re- 
turns from me ; for " the gifts and calling of God are with- 
out repentance." The heart of the best man is like the 
wheels in Ezekiel's vision ; as mutable and moveable several 
ways as wheels ; as perplexed, hindered, and distracted in it- 
self, as cross wheels in one another ; grace swaying one way, 
and flesh another ; — who can expect stability in such a thing ? 
Surely, of itself it hath none : but the constancy and uni- 
formity of motion in the wheels was this, that they were 
joined to the living creatures who, in their motion, returned 
not when they went. Such is the stability of the faithful in 
the covenant ; they have it not from themselves, for they 
are all like wheels, but from him unto whom by the same 
Spirit of life they are united ; who cannot repent, nor return 
from the covenant of mercy which he hath made. 

A believer has eternal life in actual possession in the seed, 
and in reversion in the harvest, John vi. 54. If the be- 
liever is one that is born again not of corruptible seed, but 
incorruptible, 1 Pet. i. 23, by what process is this life to 
be extinguished ? The life of the plant depends upon the 
life of the seed, but this seed (the seed of grace) is incorrup- 
tible, therefore the plant produced by it is incorruptible. 

The candidate for immortality — the believer who contends 
for an incorruptible crown, must not calculate on a successful 
progress without exertion, and fresh and vigorous efforts of 
toil and labour. He must not turn out of the path because 
impediments lie in it, nor leave the " narrow way," however 
strait and difficult he may find it at times, to walk in the 
easier path to flesh and blood, of self-indulgence and carnal 
ease, but go straight forwards, nor turn to the right hand 
nor to the left, " looking unto the recompense of the reward." 
The traveller will keep in the road which leads to the city 



376 



PERSECUTION. 



he wishes to reach, and will not leave it because of the occa- 
sional ruggeclness of it. It may be allowed him who walks 
only for the pleasure of the moment, to turn away from the 
path in which he has not the flowers of verdure ever beneath 
his feet, and beauty wherever he looks around. But what 
should we have thought of the competitor of the Olympic 
games, (to which St. Paul alludes,) whose object was the 
glory of a prize, the corruptible crown — with the illustrious 
reward before him — with strength and agility that might 
assure him the possession of it, and with all the assembled 
multitudes of Greece to witness his triumph, — if he had 
turned away from the contest for the victory, because he 
was not to tread on roses, and to be refreshed with fragrance 
as he goes along ! And what shall we think of him who has 
a nobler reward — an incorruptible crown — with grace and 
strength proportioned to his wants and necessities, and 
" compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses," the 
heavenly host — if he shall cease " to run with patience the 
race that is set before him !" 



persecution. 

We have one well-attested instance of the Lord's faithful- 
ness, in the case of Mr. Bainham, who suffered in the reign 
of Queen Mary. When in the fire, he thus addressed his 
persecutors : " You call for miracles in proof of our doc- 
trine ; now behold one. I feel no more pain from these 
flames than if I was laid upon a bed of roses." 

Some harbours are fenced with massy chains of iron, 
reaching from side to side to obstruct the access of shipping. 
Similar is the profession of Christ and his cause in perse- 
cuting times. But as a ship has often been able to force its 
way into the port, and burst the chains that oppose its 
entrance, by the aid of a favourable tide and a strong- 
breeze ; so persecution is nothing to a believing soul, whose 
sails are filled with the breathings of the Holy Ghost, and 
the full tide of whose affections is turned by grace to God, 
and Christ, and heaven. 



PEACE. 



377 



To expose ourselves to worldly contempt and persecution 
for Christ's sake, is like going into the cold bath. At first 
it gives us a shock, but it grows easier and easier every time, 
until by degrees it ceases to be disagreeable. 

Some fresh- water sailor standing upon the shore in a fair 
day, and beholding the ships top and gallant in all their 
bravery riding safely at anchor, thinks it a brave thing to go 
to sea, and will by all means go abroad; but being out a 
league or two from the harbour, and feeling himself by the 
rocking of the ship to grow ill, and his soul even to abhor 
all manner of meat, or otherwise a storm to arrive, the wind 
and the sea, as it were, conspiring the sinking of the vessel, 
forthwith repents his folly, and makes vows that if he come 
to be set ashore again, he will bid an eternal farewell to all 
such voyages. Thus there are many faint-hearted Christians 
to be found amongst us, who in calm days of peace, when 
religion is not overclouded by the times, will needs join 
themselves to the number of the people of God ; they will 
be as earnest and as forward as the best, and who but they? 
Yet let but a tempest begin to appear, and the sea grow 
rougher than at the first entry, the times alter, troubles 
raised, many cross winds of opposition and gainsaying begin 
to blow, they are weary of their course, and will to shore 
again, resolving never to thrust themselves into any more 
adventures. Christ they would have by all means, but 
Christ crucified by no means. 



As the eye, too small, and unequal to the light of the sun 
spread far and wide, cannot with one look behold and com- 
prehend all its beauties diffused through the whole compass 
of nature ; so the peace of God doth not only surpass all 
our senses, but our understanding also. 

Venus' orbit, or path of rotation, is for the most part 
extremely regular ; hardly any point of it being more remote 
from the sun than another. Hence this planet is remark- 



378 



PEACE. 



able for always preserving nearly an equal distance from that 
luminary. Similar is the experience of some believers. 
They enjoy rather an even and settled peace, than any exu- 
berant overflowing of consolation. Their habitation is, 
mostly, on the middle region of Mount Tabor ; instead of 
being now elevated to the summit, and anon turned down into 
the valley below. The manner is not always exactly the same 
in which the Holy Spirit trains his disciples to a meetness 
for their heavenly inheritance. Like a judicious and care- 
ful tutor, he wisely and condescendingly adapts his modes of 
instruction to the genius, and to the particular improvement 
of each individual pupil; until, having taken their degree 
in grace, they ascend, one by one, to their glorious home 
above. 

In vain do you seek to stop the streams while the fountains 
are open ; turn yourselves whither you will, bring your- 
selves into what condition you can, nothing but reconcilia- 
tion with the God of judgment can give you rest and peace 
in the day of visitation. What variety of plagues are in his 
hand ! changing of condition will do no more to the avoid- 
ing of them, than a sick man's turning himself from one 
side to another ; during his turning, he forgets his pain by 
striving to move ; being laid down again, he finds his condi- 
tion the same as before. 

By the laws of England noblemen have this privilege, 
that none of them can be bound to the peace, because it is 
supposed that a noble disposition will never be engaged in 
brawls and contentions. It is supposed, that the peace is 
bound to them, and that of their own accord they will be 
always careful to preserve it. It is the base bramble that 
rends and tears what is next unto it. Gentleness, mercy, 
goodness, love, tenderness of others' sufferings, are the 
greatest ornament of a noble spirit ; and where it is sancti- 
fied, the grace of God shines bright in such a heart. — 
Spencer. 

There are a sort of foolish country people, that think 
nature will work out all distempers, and they need no physic. 
Some of them are confuted by their graves; others of 
more strength and healthier constitutions possibly recover 



PEACE. 



379 



their former vigour ; but their diseases make a truce only, 
not a peace with their bodies ; the latent cause remains and 
watcheth its advantage of the next heat or cold the body 
takes, or the next intemperate season that comes. And thus 
many deal with their souls, never regarding when their 
spirits are troubled to heal up the wound with the balm of 
Gilead, but go on in this worldly natural way, and at last 
their troubled spirits are quiet again, so they get their peace 
of course : but all this while the hidden cause of their trou- 
ble watcheth the next advantage, their souls fester within, 
and on a sudden they are ready to despair, and lay violent 
hands on themselves. 

The same effects, or what appear to be the same, may 
arise from very different causes. Jonah slept in the storm, 
so did our blessed Lord. The one slept in evil security, the 
other in the peace of God which passeth all understanding. 
The two states are perfectly distinct ; the one is the momen- 
tary calm of the man of the world, the other the peace of 
the Christian. 

Peace and joy are only to be maintained by stedfast 
" looking to Jesus." When the mariner is overtaken by the 
perilous tempest, what imparts to his mind confidence and 
tranquillity ? Does he look forth at the fury of the raging 
storm ; and in order to enjoy peace and a sense of security, 
set himself to examine the state of his own feelings upon it? 
No ! he examines the tightness of his vessel ; the firmness 
of its timber ; the completeness of the tackling and its sea- 
worthy state ; he calls to mind the storms it has already 
weathered, and the fearful seas it has been brought through 
in safety. And how does the landsman quiet his fears when 
he feels his dwelling tremble before the beating blast ? To 
listen to the roaring of the winds, and brood over his own 
feelings, would only sink his spirit the more. He thinks of 
the good bottom on which his house is founded, and looks 
at the thickness, strength, and tried stability of its walls. So 
must we derive our peace in surveying the sufficiency of the 
foundation on which our hopes are built, not shifting sand, 
but solid rock, of the foundation of which Jehovah himself 
hath said, " Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation," &c. 



380 



PEACE. 



There is a difference between peace with God, and peace 
of conscience. The one we have merely by grace and free 
justification, but in the court of conscience there must be 
some evidence and manifestation. A bankrupt has peace in 
court as soon as the surety has paid his debt ; but he only 
hath the comfort of it within himself when it is signified to 
him by letter or otherwise ; so while free justification is the 
ground of our comfort, works done in Christ are the evi- 
dence that intimate it to us. 

Christ saith of himself, " I came not to send peace, but a 
sword ;" and yet the apostle saith, that " he came and 
preached peace to them which were afar off, and to those 
which were near." How shall these things be reconciled ? 
Surely as a man may say of a rock : " Nothing more quiet, 
because it is never stirred, and yet nothing more unquiet, 
because it is ever assaulted ;" so we may say of the church, 
" Nothing more peaceable, because it is established upon a 
rock ; and yet nothing more unpeaceable, because that rock 
is in the midst of seas, wind, enemies, persecutions." But 
yet still the prophet's conclusion is certain. "The work of 
righteousness is peace ; and the effect Of righteousness, 
quietness and assurance for ever." 

The ancients, in their mythological learning, tell us, that 
when Jupiter espied the men of the world striving for 
Truth, and pulling her in pieces to secure her to them- 
selves, he sent Mercury down amongst them, and he with 
his usual arts dressed Error up in the imagery of Truth, and 
thrust her into the crowd, and so left them to contend still : 
and though then by contention men were sure to get but 
little truth, yet they were as earnest as ever, and lost peace 
too in their importunate contentions for the very image of 
truth. And this indeed is no wonder ; but where truth and 
peace are brought into the world together, and bound up in 
the same bundle of life, when we are taught a religion by 
the Prince of peace, who is the truth itself, to see men con- 
tending for this truth to the breach of that peace, and when 
men fall out to see that they should make Christianity their 
theme, that is one of the greatest wonders in the world. — ■ 
Spencer. 



PRAISE. 



381 



praise. 

The word which is rendered praise, primarily imports 
irradiation of a luminous body. The high ambition of a 
penitent soul is that of becoming a reflector, from which the 
glories of the Sun of Righteousness may be more widely 
diffused on the world of men and angels. 

Why are we not more grateful for so many benefits which 
we have no ways deserved ? How grateful would a lost and 
tormented soul be, if God should free him from those 
flames wherein he is tormented, and place him in the same 
condition we now are ! What a life would he lead, and how 
grateful would he be unto so merciful a benefactor ! He 
hath done no less for us, but much more ; for if he hath not 
drawn us out of Tophet, he hath not thrown us into it, as w r e 
deserved : which is the greater favour ? Tell me, if a cre- 
ditor should cast that debtor into prison who owed him a 
thousand ducats, and after the enduring of much affliction, 
at last release him ; or should suffer another who owed fifty 
thousand ducats to go up and down free, without touching a 
thread of his garment , whether of the debtors received the 
greatest benefit ? I believe thou wilt say, " the latter." More, 
then, are we indebted to God Almighty; and therefore 
ought to praise him by living entirely for his service. Con- 
sider how a man would live who should be restored to life, 
after he had been in Tophet. Thou shouldest live better, 
since thou art more indebted to Almighty God, and thus 
praise him. 

Those who are parents may have observed that when a 
child has something it values very highly, or that possesses 
a great and obviously intrinsic worth, the child will run to 
the parents to entreat that the treasure may be kept till the 
owner is capable of making a fitting use of it. Let us 
acknowledge ourselves to be but children in Christianity as 
it regards praise. Praise is the language which the people 
of the Lord shall hear when entering the kingdom he hath 
prepared for them. " Well done, &c." But now we must 
be afraid of it, nor dare to receive it. Let us carry it to him 



382 



PRAISE. 



who will keep it for us till the day comes when, through 
Christ's merits, we shall be accounted worthy of it. For the 
sinful creature to take praise to itself is to defraud the living 
God. — E. J. Caulfield. 

A man may praise God for the redemption of the world, 
&c, who has no consciousness of having secured an interest 
in it, hut not like him who feels he has a property in it. 
How different will be their feelings ! Just as great will be 
the difference of interest which will be felt by a stranger 
passing through a beautiful estate, and by the owner of it. 
One may admire the richness of the soil, the beauty of its 
crops, and the stateliness of its trees ; but his interest in it 
will fall very far short of his who has the title and property 
in it. 

To praise God is a most profitable duty. Ps. lxvii. 5, 6. 
The more exhalations are drawn from the earth, the more 
vapours ascend, the more showers come down. In like 
manner the more our praises ascend to God, the more mer- 
cies come down. There is a reciprocal intercourse between 
us and God by mercies, as there is between the earth and 
the lower heavens by vapours and showers. 

We are in God's hand, as clay in the hands of the potter. 
Did you ever know a potter thank a vessel of his own making 
for its beauty or usefulness ? Surely the praise is due, not to 
the pot, but to the potter. In a still infinite higher degree is 
the whole praise due to God, for the graces and the good 
works which he has given us. 

Rivers receiving their fulness from the ocean, pay their 
tribute by returning their streams unto it back again ; which 
homage, if they should deny to yield, their swelling waters 
would bear down their own banks and drown the country. 
So we receiving from the infinite ocean of all goodness 
whatsoever fulness we have of grace and virtue, the praises 
and glory due unto them are, by humble acknowledg- 
ments and thanksgiving, to return to him that gave them. 
But if we shall wax unthankful, and refuse to pay the tri- 
bute due, and show our rebellion against our great Lord by 
encroaching upon his right, thinking to grow rich by rob- 
bing of him, and keeping of all to our own use ; these gifts 



PROFESSION. 



383 



thus retained, make us but to swell with pride, and break- 
ing down the banks of modesty and humility, will not only 
empty us of all grace and grandeur, but make all our good 
parts we have hurtful and pernicious. And thus it is, that 
the not giving unto God that which is God's ; the not 
returning praise to God for grace received, is the ready way 
to be graceless. — Spencer. 



profession. 

Some professors pass for very meek, good-natured people, 
until you displease them. They resemble a pool or pond, 
which, while you let it alone, looks clear and limpid ; but, 
if you put in a stick and stir the bottom, the rising sedi- 
ment soon discovers the impurity that lurks beneath. 

Men may say they are Jews, and are not, but of the syna- 
gogue of Satan ; and men may say they are Christians, and 
are not, but of the kingdom of Satan too. A wen in the 
body seemeth to belong unto the integrity of the whole, 
when indeed it is an enemy and thief therein. Ivy about a 
tree seemeth to embrace it with much affection, when indeed 
it doth but kill and choke it. Men may take upon them the 
profession of Christians, and, like a wen, be skinned over 
with the same outside which the true members have ; may 
pretend much submission, worship, and ceremony, and yet 
(such is the satanic hypocrisy of the heart) the same men 
may haply inwardly swell, and rankle against the power of 
his truth and Spirit. — Spencer. 

Look but upon two sawyers working at the pit, the one 
casts his eyes upward, whilst his main action tends down- 
ward ; the other stands with a countenance dejected, whilst 
his work is to draw the saw upward. Thus the pharisee and 
publican, the real professor and the rotten-hearted hypo- 
crite, the one looketh up towards heaven, whilst his actions 
tend to the pit infernal; the other casts down his head, 
whilst his hand and his heart move upwards ; the one seems 



384 



PROFESSION. 



better than he is, the other is better than he seems ; the one 
hath nothing but form, whilst the other hath the power of 
godliness.— Ibid. 

In the things of the world, how doth every man strive to 
be suitable to his rank, and is accounted base if he be not 
so ! If of a yeoman he became a gentleman, of a gentle- 
man a knight, as his person is improved, so will he improve 
his port also ; yea, the excesses of men show, that many go 
beyond their rank in their house, in their fare, in their 
clothes, building like emperors, clothing like kings, feast- 
ing like princes. But in our spiritual estate it is nothing 
so ; for our house, we can be content to dwell in ceiled 
houses, when the ark of God is under tents ; and who doth 
endeavour that himself may be a temple fit for the Holy 
Ghost to dwell in ? As for our clothes, they should be royal, 
our garments should ever be white, the wedding garments 
should never be off; but we are far from this kind of cloth- 
ing, we do not endeavour to be clothed with the righteous- 
ness of the saints. Finally, for our diet, we are called to 
the table of the Lord, and should be sustained with angels' 
food, yet content ourselves with swine's meat ; for what else 
are fleshly lusts ? We are called to be the sons of God, yet 
our eye is very seldom upon our Father to see what he- 
seemeth his sons ; we are called to be members of Christ, 
but little do we care what beseemeth the mystical body ; we 
are rather in name than in deed, either children of God, or 
members of Christ. — Ibid. 

It is observable that the hedgehog hath two holes in his 
siege, one towards the south, another towards the north ; 
now when the southern wind blows, he stops up that hole, 
and turns him northwards ; and then when the north wind 
blows, he stops up that hole likewise, and turns him south- 
ward again. Such urchins, such hedgehogs, are all time- 
servers, they do all things for the time, but nothing for the 
truth ; they believe for a time, as long as the warm sun 
shines on them ; but as soon as any storm of persecution 
ariseth, by-and-bye they have a starting hole to hide them- 
selves in ; they turn face about, and change their profes- 
sion with the time. — Ibid. 



PROFESSION. 



385 



Professors resemble the tares and wheat. There are tares 
which mingle with the corn, and cannot well be separated 
from it without injury to the crop. There is the showy weed, 
aptly resembling the gay, the carnal professor, but known 
and distinguished by every eye from the true followers of 
Christ. There are also weeds less showy, but still more ob- 
noxious, fitly representing the barren professor, " having a 
name to live," but spiritually dead. Again, there is the true 
tare, so much like the corn itself, that none but an expe- 
rienced observer could discern the difference between them ; 
forcibly presenting an image of those whose life and conver- 
sation so outwardly resemble the true Christian, that none 
but the eye of an omniscient Judge can detect their insin- 
cerity. 

Many a professor, who dwells where the full- orbed splen- 
dour of the Sun of Righteousness shines around him, and 
in a genial climate, yet more resembles a native of Iceland 
or Lapland. You would suppose that for more than half 
his time he was not permitted to see the sun. A moral 
winter appears to rest upon his soul. What is the state of 
their hearts towards God ? Are they not cold and barren 
as the winter season? What fruits do we see adorning 
their profession ? Or rather it may be asked, are they not 
like so many bare and leafless branches of the snow-clad 
forest, through which the gusts of pride and passion sweep 
with relentless fury, and upon which the dews and showers 
of gospel grace produce but the cold icicles of vanity, sin, 
and death 1 Are there not others whose profession is little 
better than a mantle of snow, beautiful and dazzling to the 
eye for a short time, but soon melting and vanishing into its 
native element. 

I saw, says one, a bank covered with violets. The sun 
was shining full upon it, and its genial warmth had opened 
the flowers, and caused them to exhibit the most beautiful 
colours. But when I began to gather them, I found, with 
the exception of very few, that their colour was all they had 
to recommend them ; they were not the sort of violets which 
afford the sweet fragrance we expect to find in that flower. 
It struck me forcibly that this was an emblem of the church, 

c c 



386 



PROSPERITY. 



the professing church of Christ. How many are there of 
fair and promising appearance, professing, and seeming to 
be of the truth, who yet fail to send up a " sweet smelling 
savour to God" — who are wanting in those holy and devout, 
and grateful dispositions and affections, which their profes- 
sion indicates. I bid my heart take the lesson home. What 
fragrance have I diffused abroad ? What incense have I 
sent upwards? Are not my words and thoughts, is not my 
whole profession and character, like those scentless violets ? 
There is beauty even in the outward profession of religion 
and holiness ; but if the inward principle be wanting or 
deficient, there will be no fragrance shed around, no incense 
wafted upwards. And yet I have been situated, as it were, 
on a green sunny bank ; my opportunities and means of 
grace have been many. 



A friend of Mr. Dod's being raised from a mean estate 
to much worldly greatness, Mr. Dod sent him word that 
" this was but like going out of a boat into a ship ; and he 
should remember that while he was in the world, he was 
still on the sea." 

Too much wealth, like a suit of clothes too heavily em- 
broidered, does but encumber, and weigh us down, instead 
of answering the solid purposes of usefulness and conve- 
nience. 

Generally speaking, the sunshine of too much worldly 
favour weakens and relaxes our spiritual nerves ; as weather, 
too intensely hot, relaxes those of the body. A degree of 
seasonable opposition, like a fine dry frost, strengthens, and 
invigorates, and braces up. 

A prosperous state is showy to the eye, but very perilous ; 
like a ship that is finely carved and painted, but so leaky, 
that without continual pumping it cannot be kept above 
water ; so without the strictest guard over their hearts and 
senses, the prosperous cannot escape the shipwreck of a 



PROMISES. 



387 



good conscience, and fall into many foolish lusts that drown 
men in perdition. Yet this state of life many aspire to, as 
the most happy. When Lot separated from Abraham, he 
chose the pleasant fruitful country that was like the garden 
of the Lord. Sad choice ! The land was the best, but the 
inhabitants the worst ; yet a wealthy state of life varies. — 
Spencer. 

I have seen the wicked (saith David) in great power, and 
spreading himself like a green bay-tree. And why like 
a green bay-tree ? Because in the winter, when all other 
trees, as the vine-tree, fig-tree, apple-tree, &c, which are 
more profitable trees, are withered and naked, yet the bay 
continueth as green in the winter as the summer : so fareth 
it with wicked men, when the children of God, in the storm 
of persecutions and afflictions and miseries, seem withered, 
and as it were dead, yet the wicked all that time flourish, 
and do appear green in the eyes of the world. They wallow 
in worldly wealth, but it is for their destruction ; they wax 
fat, but it is for the day of slaughter ; they are cursed with 
barrenness. It was the case of Hophni and Phineas ; the 
Lord gave them enough, and suffered them to go on, and 
prosper in their wickedness; but what was the reason? 
Because he would destroy them. — Ibid. 

Prosperity with humility is good : and prosperous vessels 
whose sails are filled, if well ballasted, run a more steady 
course ; so it is with saints when they press forwards with 
full sails and joy of faith : for while the holy ballast of hu- 
mility is in the hold of the heart, and not merely aloft in 
skies above deck, appearing to men, they are not soon lifted 
up with every good success they meet with, but carry it evenly 
before the Lord. 



If a merchant of indisputable opulence, and honesty gives 
me his note of hand, binding himself to pay so much money, 

I have no reason to fear a failure of payment. " Mr. 

c c 2 



38S 



PROMISES 



is a person of vast wealth, and of as great integrity : my 
money is as sure as if I had it in my pocket." Thus we 
reason concerning human things. Give the same implicit 
credit to God's promises. "Y\ e have it in his own writing, 
under his own hand and seal, that " every one who be- 
lieveth shall have everlasting lite;" and "whoso cometh 
unto me. I will in nowise cast out." Do not dishonour 
God's note of hand, by letting unbelief question either his 
ability or his veracity. Do not withhold from the God of 
heaven and earth that confidence which, in many cases, you 
cannot withhold from a man. 

When men come to close with the promise indeed, to make 
a life upon it. they are very ready to question, and inquire 
whether it be possible that ever the word of it should be 
made good to them. He that sees a little boat swimming 
at sea. observes no great difficulty in it : looks upon it with- 
out any solicitude of mind at all ; beholds how it tosses up 
and down without anv tears of its sinking ; but let the man 
commit his own life to sea in that bottom, what inquiries will 
he make ! What a search into the vessel ! ,; Is it possible," 
saith he. " this little thing should safeguard my life in the 
ocean ?" It is so with us in our views of the promises. 
Whilst we consider them at large, as they are in the word, 
they are all true, all - yea and amen,"'" and shall be accom- 
plished. But when we go to venture our soul on a promise 
in an ocean of wrath and temptations, then every blast we 
think will overturn it. It will not bear us above all the 
waves. Now here we are apt to deceive ourselves, and mis- 
take the whole thing in question, which is at the bottom of 
many corrupted reasonings. We inquire whether it be so 
to us as the word holds out : when the truth is. the question 
is not about the nature of the thing, but about the power 
of God. Place the doubt right, and it is this — Is God able 
to accomplish what he hath spoken ? Can he heal my back- 
sliding? Can he pardon mv sins? Can he save mv 
soul?" 

It is true, many difficulties fall out between the word, and 
the thing, ^o was it with Abraham in the business of a 
son : and so with David in the matter of a kingdom. God 



PROMISES. 



389 



will have his promised mercies to fall as the dews upon the 
parched, gasping earth ; or 3 " as the shadow of a great rock 
in a weary land," Isaiah xxxii. 2 ; very welcome unto the 
traveller, who hath had the sun beat upon his head in his 
travel all the day. " Zion is a crown of glory in the hand 
of the Lord, as a royal diadem in the hand of her God ;" 
Isa. lxii. 3. The precious stones of a diadem must be cut 
and polished, before they be set in beauty and glory. God 
will have ofttimes the precious living stones of Zion to have 
many a sharp cutting, before they come to be fully fixed in 
his diadem ; but yet in the close, wmatever obstacles stand 
in the way, the promise hath still wrought out its passage : 
as a river, all the while it is stopped with a dam, is still 
working higher and higher, still getting more and more 
strength, until it beat down all before it, and obtain a free 
course to its appointed place. Every time opposition lies 
against the fulfilling of the promise, and so seems to impede 
it for a season, it gets more and more power, until the ap- 
pointed hour be come, and then the promise bears down all 
before it. 

Beggars used to be quicksighted. Benhadad's servant 
saw light at a little hole ; and gathered from a few kind 
words which dropped from Ahab's mouth, that there was 
mercy laid up in his heart towards their master, which they 
soon blew up. Joab saw David's bowels working towards 
Absalom through the casement of his countenance, and 
therefore let down the widow's parable as a bucket to draw 
out that mercy which lay in his heart, like water in a deep 
well. How much more encouragement hast thou, Christian, 
to plead with thy God, who art not put to guess at God's 
thoughts, but hast the assurance of plain promises for thy 
good speed ! And do we yet read them, as once that 
eunuch that sweet promise, Isaiah liii., and understand not 
the meaning of them ? Do we yet sit so near our comfort, 
as Hagar by the well, and our eyes held not to see it ? Can 
we yet walk over the promises as barren ground, when, with 
a little digging into them, we might find a treasure to pay 
all our debts, and supply all our wants? 

Every promise is built upon four pillars. God's justice 



390 



PRAYER. 



or holiness, which will not suffer him to deceive ; his grace 
or goodness, which will not suffer him to forget ; his truth, 
which will not suffer him to change ; his power, which makes 
him able to accomplish. 

When I first amused myself with going out to sea, when 
the winds arose, and the waves became a little rough, I found 
a difficulty to keep my legs on the deck, but I tumbled and 
tossed about like a porpoise on the water : at last I caught 
hold of a rope that was floating about, and then I was ena- 
bled to stand upright. So when in prayer a multitude of 
troublous thoughts invade your peace, or when the 
winds and waves of temptations arise, look out for the 
rope, lay hold of it, and stay yourself on the faithfulness of 
God in his covenant with his people, and in his promises. 
Hold fast by that rope, and you shall stand. 

Betroth thyself to Christ. The covenant of grace is the 
jointure which God settles only upon Christ's spouse. Re- 
becca had not the jewels and costly raiment till she was 
promised to become Isaac's wife. Gen. xxiv. 53. "All the 
promises are yea and amen in Christ." If once thou re- 
signest Christ, with him thou resignest them. He that owns 
the tree has a right to all the fruit on it. 



As columns of air, if ever so high and broad, could have 
no weight if the air itself have no weight, so repetitions of 
prayer, if unimportunate, if ever so frequent and constant, 
can have no efficacy — having in themselves no efficacy. 

The energies of nature are explored, and made to work for 
man. Steam is not suffered to evaporate, but turned into 
physical strength. The wind that bloweth where it listeth 
is arrested in its course, and made in its passage to do us 
service. The torrent, in its progress, is employed for our 
purposes ; but prayer, the spiritual element of the new 
creation, which has been proved to have a control over the 



PRAYER. 



391 



elements of the natural world ; nay, which once stopped the 
sun in its course, how is it neglected and undervalued ! Yet 
where can we find a mightier power ? 

We are apt to feel as if, by our prayers, we laid God under 
obligations to serve us ; as if one feeble, imperfect service 
were " profitable to him." Suppose some poor beggar should 
say of a rich nobleman, ' He is under great obligations to 
me.' — And when asked why ? should answer, " I have been 
every day for a great many years, and told him a long story 
of my wants, and asked him to help me." You can see how 
absurd this appears ; and yet it is precisely similar to our con- 
duct, except, indeed, that ours is much more absurd, because 
the disparity between God and us is infinitely greater than 
can exist between any two mortals. 

Sequester yourselves from all earthly employments, and 
set apart some time for solemn preparation to meet God in 
duty. You cannot come hot, reeking out of the world into 
God's presence, but you will find the influence of it in your 
duties. It is with the heart a few minutes since plunged 
in the world, now at the feet of God, just as with the sea 
after a storm, which still continues working muddy and dis- 
quiet, though the wind be laid and storm over : thy heart 
must have some time to settle. There are few musicians 
that can take down a lute or viol, and play presently upon 
it, without some time to tune it. When thou goest to God 
in any duty, take thy heart aside, and say, O my soul, I am 
now addressing myself to the greatest work that ever a 
creature was employed about. I am going into the awful 
presence of God, about business of everlasting moment. 

Edward VI. (at a time when Sir John Cheek, one of his 
tutors, was sick,) asking one morning, " how his tutor did V 
was answered that " he was supposed to be near death, and 
had been actually given over by his physicians." " No," 
replied the king, " he will not die this time, for I have been 
wrestling for him to-day with God in prayer, and I have 
had an answer of peace; I know he will recover." And the 
event corresponded. Christ also prays for the spiritual and 
eternal life of his people ; nor prays only, but prevails. — 
Spencer. 



392 



PRAYER. 



There is a story, how the Castle of Truth being (by the 
king of Jerusalem) left to the guard and keeping of his best 
servant Zeal : the king of Arabia (with an infinite host) 
eame against it, begirt it round with an unresistible siege, 
cut off all passages, all reliefs, all hopes of friends, meat, 
or ammunition. Which Zeal perceiving, and seeing how 
extremitv had brought him almost to shake hands with 
Despair, he calls his council of war about him, and discovers 
the sadness of his condition, the strength of his enemy, the 
violence of the siege, and the imj^ossibility of conveying 
either messages or letters to the great king his master, from 
whom they might receive new strength and encouragement. 
TVhereupon (the necessity of the occasion being so great) 
they all conclude but to deliver the castle, (though upon 
very hard terms) into the hands of the enemy. But Zeal 
staggers at the resolution, and being loth to lose Hope, as 
long as Hope had any aid or thread to hang by, he told 
them he had one friend or companion in the castle, who was 
so wise, so valiant, and so fortunate, that to him, and to his 
exploits alone, he would deliver the management of their 
safety. This was Prayer, the chaplain of the great king, 
and the priest to that colony. Hence Prayer was called 
for, and all proceedings debated. He presently arms him- 
self with Humility, Clemency, Sincerity, and Fervency : and, 
in despite of the enemy, makes his way through, came to 
the king his master, and with such moving passions enters 
his ears, that presently forces are levied, which returning 
under the conduct of Prayer, raise the siege, overthrow the 
king of Arabia, make spoil of his camp, and give to the 
castle of Truth her first noble liberty : which performed, 
Zeal crowns Prayer with wreaths of laurel, sets him on his 
right hand, and says for his sake Divinity shall ever march 
in the first rank of honour.— Ibid. 

It is said of Archimedes, that famous mathematician of 
Syracuse, who having by his art framed a curious instrument, 
if he could but have told how to fix it, it would have raised 
the very foundations of the whole earth. Such an instru- 
ment is prayer, which if it be set upon God, and fixed in 
heaven, it will fetch earth up to heaven, change earthlv 



PRAYER. 



393 



thoughts into heavenly conceptions, turn flesh into spirit, 
metamorphose nature into grace, and earth into heaven. — 
Ibid. 

If a great king should encourage a poor man in his suit, 
and say unto him, "Alas, poor man I perceive thy distress ; do 
but draw up thy petition, and I will give thee a satisfactory 
answer ;" this would be a ground of great hope. But if he 
shall say, " Go to my secretary , and bid him draw it up thus 
and thus, and in this manner," would not this be a matter of 
great comfort 1 Yea, but if he shall say to the prince his 
son, standing by him, " Do you present this poor man's peti- 
tion into my hands," what unspeakable comfort must this 
needs be! And just thus God dealeth with his children. 
God heareth our prayers, the blessed Spirit draweth them 
up, and Jesus Christ the Son of God presenteth them to 
his Father. Without all doubt, great is the comfort of that 
poor soul that can by prayer have two or three walks a day 
upon this Mount Tabor, and with holy Moses converse with 
God in three persons, on the Horeb of fervent prayer. — 
Ibid. 

There is no man in his right wits would come as a suitor 
to his prince, and bring his accuser with him, who is ready 
to testify and prove to his face his treason and rebellion ; 
much less would any person present himself before so great 
a majesty to make petition for some benefit after he had 
killed his sovereign's only son and heir, having still in his 
hand the bloody weapon wherewith he committed that 
horrid act. There is no adulteress so shamefully impudent, 
as to desire pardon of her jealous husband while she retains 
her lover. If any be so shameless to make suits in this 
odious manner, they are sure to be repulsed, and find wrath 
and vengeance, where they look for grace and mercy. But 
thus do they behave themselves towards God, who, remain- 
ing polluted with their sins, do offer up their prayers unto 
him ; for they bring their accusers, even their defiled con- 
sciences, and crying sins which continually accuse and con- 
demn them, and call for their due judgment and punish- 
ment which they have deserved. They bring the weapon 
into God's presence, (even their sins,) whereby they have 



394 



PRAYER. 



crucified afresh the only Son of God ; and they present 
themselves into God's presence to sue for grace, embracing 
still with ardent affection the world and worldly vanities, 
with whom they have often committed spiritual whoredom, 
with a purpose to continue still in their former uncleanness. 
And therefore let not such fondly imagine that God will 
hear them, and grant their suits, but rather expect in his 
terrible wrath he will take vengeance on them, and turn 
their temporary afflictions into everlasting punishments. — 
Ibid. 

It is reported of a nobleman in this kingdom, that he had 
a ring given him by the queen, with this promise, That if 
he sent that ring at any time when he was in danger, she 
would remember him, and relieve him. This was a great 
privilege from a prince, yet it is known to many what that 
was subject unto ; he might be in such distress as the queen 
could not be able to help him, or, though she were able, (as 
she was in that case,) yet the ring might be sent, and not 
delivered. Now then consider what the Lord doth to us. 
He hath given us this privilege, he hath given us prayer, 
as it were, this ring ; he hath given us that to use, and tells 
us whatsoever our case is, whatsoever we are, whatsoever 
we stand in need of, whatsoever distress we are in, do but 
send this up to me, (saith he,) do but deliver up this message 
to me of prayer, and I will be sure to relieve thee. And 
most certain it is, whatsoever case we are in, when we send 
up our prayers to God, they are sure to be conveyed ; for we 
send them to one that is able and ready to help us, which a 
prince many times is not able, or not willing, to perform. — 
Ibid. 

A man that is wounded may cry, and call upon the sur- 
geon to have some ease of his pain ; but if he will not have 
the splinter, or ball extracted, that sticketh fast in the flesh, 
and causeth the grief, he may cry long enough, but all in 
vain. And if people should pray to God to stay the rage 
and fury of the burning when a house is on fire, and them- 
selves in the mean time pour on oil, or throw on fuel, there 
will be but small hope of quenching the same. So there can 
be no comfortable return of our prayers unto God till sin be 



PRAYER. 



395 



removed. It is but folly to seek unto God by prayer, till 
the partition wall of sin that is betwixt us and him be 
broken down, at least in our intentions ; or while we con- 
tinue to feed and cherish our lusts. It is sin that crosseth 
and hindereth the effect and fruit of prayer, like those 
heathens of whom the cynic made this observation : — That 
they prayed indeed to their gods for health, but, at the very 
same time when they prayed, they used such excess as could 
not but greatly impair their health, and so wilfully deprived 
themselves of what they prayed for. — Ibid. 

Walk in the company of sinful thoughts all the day, and 
thou wilt hardly shut the door upon them when thou goest 
into the closet. You have taught them to be bold. They 
will now plead acquaintance with thee, and crowd in after 
thee like little children, who, if you play with them, and carry 
them much in your arms, will cry after you, when you 
would be rid of their company. 

Faith grounded on the promises. Psalm cxix. 49, 50, 147, 
Remember thy word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast 
caused me to trust. To pray in faith is to go as far as the 
promise goes, to believe that God is a Father, and being a 
Father he will not keep any good thing from his child. A 
beggar never goes from an housekeeper's door, so long as he 
shall have an alms ; no more doth a believing soul go from the 
throne of grace, so long as he believes God will hear ; but if 
he leave off the words of prayer, he doth not leave off the 
suit of prayer. 

Persevering prayer is the building of the soul towards 
heaven. Holy men should pray as builders build ; first they 
lay the foundation, next make the walls, then they set up 
timber work, and so go on till the work be finished ; so a 
godly soul reaches higher and higher, till at last the prayer 
reaches unto heaven. 2 Chron. xxx. 27, the prayer of the 
godly priests came up to his holy habitation, even unto heaven. 

We should do with our hearts in prayer, as in the winding- 
up of a bucket ; if two or three windings will not fetch it 
up, we will wind it higher, till it comes up ; so our hearts 
should not be at the same pin, but we should wind them up 



396 



PRAYER. 



higher and higher ; so, though we get not the thing wholly 
that we desire, yet we should get our hearts nearer God. 

We know God hears not sinners. How do you know that? 
may some say ; why, hy experience, by the word, and exam- 
ple. A drunkard prays against drunkenness, that God 
would heal it in him : all the world may see that God doth 
not hear his prayer, because he doth not cure him, but lets 
him go on in his sin ; thou mayest see God hears not his 
prayers. If a man lie upon his deathbed, and send for all 
the physicians in a country to come to him, yet we know he 
is not cured so long as his deadly disease remains upon him. 
So when I see a man's malice, pride, &c, lie upon him, or- 
dinarily and usually, notwithstanding all his prayers, I know 
God hears not his prayers. 

God gives his children commonly their prayers with an 
overplus, more than they have faith or face to ask; as 
Naaman, when Gehazi asked one talent, would needs force 
two upon him. Abraham asked a child of God, when he 
wanted an heir in whom he might live when dead. Now 
God promises a son, and more than so, a numerous offspring ; 
yea, more still, such an offspring, that in his offspring " all 
the nations of the earth shall be blessed." Jacob desired 
but God's pass, under the protection of which he might go 
and return safely, with food and raiment enough to keep 
him alive. Gen. xxviii. 20. Well, this he shall have, but 
God thinks it not enough, and therefore sends him home 
with two bands, who went out a poor fugitive, with little 
besides his pilgrim's staff. Solomon prays for wisdom, and 
God throws in wealth and honour. 2 Chron. i. 10; The 
woman of Canaan begs a crumb, as much as we would cast 
to a dog, and Christ gives her a child's portion. She came 
to have her sick child made well, and with it she hath the 
life of her own soul again given her. Yea, Christ puts the 
key of his treasure into her own hand, and leaves her as it 
were to serve herself : " Be it unto thee even as thou wilt." 
Matt. xv. 28.— Spencer. 

So pray as if thou wert taken up, and presented before 
God sitting on his royal throne on high, with millions of 



PRAYER. 



397 



millions of his glorious servitors ministering unto him in 
heaven. Certainly the face of such a court would awe thee. 
If thou wert but at the bar before a judge, and had a glass 
of a quarter of an hour's length turned up, being all the 
time thou hast allowed thee to improve thee for the begging 
of thy life, now forfeited and condemned, wouldest thou 
spare any of this little time to gaze upon the court, to see 
what clothes this man hath on, and what lace another 
wears? God shame us for our folly in mis-spending our 
praying seasons ! Is it not thy life thou art begging at God's 
hands ? and that a better, I trow, than the malefactor sues 
for of his mortal judge ; and dost thou know whether 
thou shalt have so long as a quarter of an hour allowed 
thee when thou art kneeling down? And yet w T ilt thou 
trifle or betray indifference in the matter ? If thou be- 
lievest not God to be so great and glorious, why dost thou 
pray ? If thou dost, why no better ? Why no closer, and 
compact in thy thoughts? — Ibid, 

Will you complain for want of that which, if you had 
without grace, would be your undoing? The heathen tells 
us a fable concerning a man who desired that all whatever 
he touched might become gold ; and (say they) it was 
granted him by the gods. When, therefore, he came to eat 
his meat, he touched it ; so his meat was turned to gold, and 
so the man was starved. The moral of this is, that many a 
man would be utterly undone if he had that which he most 
desired. And let me tell you this — without the grace of 
God our earthly nature would covet the things which make 
up an earthly portion ; yea, we should desire that all which 
we touched might be gold — and leave our souls to starve and 
be undone in the midst of our fancied abundance. 

Diligence in our affairs is indispensable, if we would pros- 
per ; but the work is then but half done. In order to 
insure success, we must mix up prayer with it. There was 
a husbandman that always sowed good seed, but never had 
good corn ; at last a neighbour came to him and said, I will 
tell you what probably may be the cause of it — you do not 
steep your seed. TNTo truly, said the other, nor did I ever 
hear that seed must be steeped. Yes, surely, said his neigh- 



398 



PRAYER. 



bour, and I will tell you how — it must be steeped in 
prayer. 

To be sincere with God, and more especially in the matter 
of prayer, is more unusual than we are apt to think. There 
appears to be great weight and knowledge of human self- 
deceit, in the confession of St. Augustin, who acknow- 
ledges that though his conscience obliged him to pray when 
young against youthful lusts, his remaining inclination to 
them was such, that he believes that he wished at bottom not 
to be heard. He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool, says 
Solomon. The strain of our prayers may tempt us to think 
we are sincere, when practice immediately after shall prove 
the contrary. Epictetus makes mention of a courtier, who, 
no doubt, thought his resolution true, that upon being- 
restored from banishment, he would never more frequent 
levees of state, or ambitiously seek places and emoluments ; 
but, alas ! (says Epictetus,) letters of invitation to court from 
Csesar met him as soon as he left my house ; and instantly he 
became more courtly than ever, and could return the gods 
thanks for the honours heaped upon him. 

No written prayer, unaided by devotional exercises drawn 
from the heart, can suit the ever-varying circumstances in the 
divine life. Its plans and designs against its spiritual ene- 
mies must be formed, like the plans of a general upon the 
field of battle, from an actual observation ; as he regulates 
his movements from actual inspection, makes his arrange- 
ments on the spot according to the existing circumstances in 
which he is pleased : there are dangers which could not be 
foreseen, and positions taken up by the enemy, as well as 
calamities of war to be met, and encountered with on the 
spot. Such is the actual state of every soul which is actively 
fighting the good fight of faith — the soul is a little world 
where nothing is at rest, but all its powers and faculties are 
continually exercised in the war between the flesh and the 
spirit. The soul, which really lives to God, is engaged in a 
perpetual warfare. Look at a general. His plans and 
designs cannot be fixed and stationary, but are ever varying. 
As he regulates his movements, so must the believer. His 
plans and designs as to his spiritual enemies can only arise 



PRAYER. 



399 



from the actual circumstances in which he is placed. To 
mortify sins, and keep down the risings of corruption — to 
resist the encroachments of a worldly spirit, and the temp- 
tations of Satan — to be making fresh advances in faith, love, 
and hope, is the daily business in hand ; but our losses^ 
trials, temptations, enemies to be resisted, are always pre- 
senting new and various aspects, and prayer must be suited 
to the special wants and temptations of the day ; the circum- 
stances of yesterday in the spiritual life will differ from the 
present day, or those of to-morrow. And as is the case, so 
must be the prayer. A watchful spirit must preside over 
all, and prayer, in all its varied modes and exercises, be in- 
cessantly called into action to put down our spiritual foes^ 
and help us to be going forwards. 

Many are the lawful amusements of the Christian, but 
that which gives the highest zest to his life is the spirit of 
prayer. He should be careful not to step aside, but dwell in 
the atmosphere of prayer. Like the ambient air, which 
yields, yet fills all space, and wide interfused embraces the 
whole earth as the principle which supports life, quickening, 
and invigorating wherever it comes — such should be the 
spirit of prayer, till through every space of life it be inter- 
fused with all your employments, and wherever you are, and 
whatever you do, embrace you on every side. Like a plea- 
sure ever omnipresent, never impeding, but gently leaving 
room for, and indescribably animating, and giving pleasure 
to every other enjoyment. 

Prayer is the great index of the divine life in the soul. It 
evidences both its existence, and the degree and vigour with 
which it flourishes. Thus, when we awake out of sleep our 
wants begin, and our desires are stirred up for the supply of 
them. And few things mark more distinctly spiritual life, 
than the earnest desire of the heart after spiritual blessings. 
When the Christian awakes to life, then the breath of prayer 
proves that life. " Behold he prayeth." This is indeed the 
spiritual barometer of the soul. Whatever outward storm, 
whatever clouds and darkness may surround him, if the 
barometer of prayer be steadily rising, his soul is on the way 
to higher, happier, and more sunny days. 



400 



PRAYER. 



When the plague raged in London, it was a common prac- 
tice to put over the doors of the infected houses this inscrip- 
tion, " Lord have mercy on us." On the doors of every 
house where the worship of God is not set up, great need 
have we to write the above, for there is a plague, a curse 
in it. 

We know that the infinite God cannot be moved, or actu • 
ally drawn nearer to us by prayer, but prayer draws the 
Christian nearer to God. If a boat is attached to a large 
vessel by a rope, the person in the former does not bring the 
ship nearer to him by pulling the rope, but he brings the 
rope and himself in it, nearer to the ship. So, the more 
frequently we pray, the nearer we bring ourselves to the 
Lord most High. The Christian is therefore enjoined to 
" pray without ceasing :" not that he can be always engaged 
in the positive act, but he ought to have what I call a holy 
aptitude of prayer. The bird is not always on the wing, but 
is ready to fly in an instant ; so the believer is not always 
on the wing of prayer, but he has such a gracious aptitude 
for this service, that he is prepared in an instant, when in 
danger or need, to fly for refuge to God. 

We are more or less disposed for our respective duties 
according as our diligence, constancy, and seriousness in 
secret prayer is more or less. The root that produces the 
beautiful and flourishing tree, with all its spreading 
branches, verdant leaves, and refreshing fruit, that which 
gains for it sap, life, vigour, and fruitfulness, is all unseen ; 
and the farther and deeper the roots spread beneath, the 
more the tree expands above. Christians ! if you wish to 
prosper, if you long to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit, 
strike your roots wide in private prayer. 

There is a happy connexion between all the parts of 
prayer, and the full discharge of one leads on to another. 
By an ingenious contrivance near some of the collieries, and 
in other places where the ground allows of it, the full and 
empty carriages, or vessels, being connected together, those 
which have been emptied are, from time to time, raised up 
an ascent by the descending of those that have been filled. In 
this way, let the descent of God's mercies, and the gifts 



PRAYER. 



401 



bestowed out of his fulness, raise your empty vessels to 
receive again and again, from his inexhaustible treasury, all 
that you need. Because he hath inclined his ear unto 
me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. — 

BlCKERSTETH. 

We miscarry through want of faith. Prayer is the bow, 
the promise is the arrow, faith is the hand which draws the 
bow, and sends the arrow with the heart's message to heaven. 
The bow without the arrow is of no use, and the arrow without 
the bow is of little worth, and both without the strength of 
the hand to no purpose. ^Neither the promise without 
prayer, nor prayer without the promise, nor both without 
faith, avail the Christian anything. What was said of the 
Israelites, " they could not enter in because of unbelief," the 
same may be said of many of our prayers, they cannot enter 
heaven, because they are not put up in faith. 

As the naturally weak ivy which, if it had no support, would 
only grovel on t"he earth, by adhering to some neighbouring 
tree, or building, or entwining itself about it, thus grows 
and flourishes, and rises higher and higher, and the more 
the winds blow, and the tempest beats against it, the closer 
it adheres, and the nearer it clings, and the faster its fibres 
embrace that which supports it, and it remains uninjured ; 
so the Christian, naturally weak, by prayer connects himself 
with the Almighty, and the more dangers and difficulties 
beset him, the more closely they unite him to his God ; he 
reaches towards, and bears upon, and clings to, the throne of 
grace, and is strengthened with divine strength. 

The smoke and sparks that rise from a furnace, are carried 
that way where the wind lies ; so, if thy heart be to the 
world, thou canst not prevent thy thoughts and meditations 
from driving thither. Then, and not till then, will prayer 
ascend like a pillar of incense from the altar, when there is 
a holy calmness on thy spirit, and the boisterous winds of 
inordinate cares and affections to the world are laid, 



402 



PROVIDENCE. 



Eagerness and anxiety are, as it were, the two features of 
the mind, reaching out into time future, darting forward, and 
apprehending some imagined good. Anxiety sensitively 
forecasting many evils, some of which never come. Eager- 
ness is the raging fever of youth — anxiety the slow fever of 
later years. Both these dispositions, though in different 
ways, dishonour God, and disturb our peace. When very 
eager about a matter, we should suspect all is not right — 
when very anxious, we may be equally sure something is 
wrong, and that we are distrusting God's providence. 

The sun may, in some sense, be justly styled animamundi, 
or the soul of our revolving world. So universally pervad- 
ing is its influence, that nothing is totally hid from the heat 
thereof. In a greater or less degree, it pervades the whole 
region of air, penetrates the inmost recesses of the earth, and 
distributes a competent portion of its beams through the 
vast expanse of waters. Hence in, and on our planet there 
is no such thing as absolute darkness, truly and strictly so 
called. If our eyes were constructed in the same manner as 
those of subterraneous animals, we should, like them, be able 
to see, without artificial help, at any distance below the surface 
of the earth, and by night as well as day. Not less univer- 
sal than the solar agency is the all-directing providence of 
God. Nothing is exempted from its notice ; nothing is ex- 
cepted from its control. Chance, like absolute darkness, 
has no real existence. If some events seem fortuitous, it is 
because we have not a sufficiency of knowledge by which to 
trace the combinations that necessarily produced them ; just 
as some place and some seasons seem totally dark to us ; 
because our optic system is so framed and attempered, that 
on various occasions the human eye is unable to collect 
those scattered and proportionably expanded rays, from 
which no place whatever is entirely excluded. 

We are like unskilful men going to the house of some 
curious artist ; so long as he is about his work, we despise 



PROVIDENCE. 



403 



it as confused ; but when it is finished, admire it as excel- 
lent ; whilst the passages of providence are on us, all is con- 
fusion, but when the fabric is reared, glorious. Let there be 
the careful observance of divine providence towards your- 
selves in particular. You will find the unspeakable advan- 
tage of it. It will make God more present with you than 
ever. It will set home the obligation of every duty, and the 
enormity of every sin upon the conscience, in a manner far 
more forcible than ever. It will also give every mercy a 
richness and value, which it could not derive from any 
other source ; just as the man who has been fed at a distance, 
by the stream of a prince's bounty, would feel his heart 
drawn with far stronger bonds of love and gratitude, were he 
to be brought into his presence, and receive his favours im- 
mediately from his own hand. God is the Lord of Hosts ; 
he is the great commander of heaven and earth ; he it is 
that directs the conflicts, neither are any put to try mastery, 
no field pitched, no battle fought, but by his special order and 
commission, and all for the accomplishment of his glory. 
But it befalleth us, as it doth with them which stand in the 
same level, wherein two large armies are ready to engage ? 
they conceive them to be a disordered multitude, whom not- 
withstanding, if they behold from a high hill, they will see 
how every one serveth under his own colours. Even so men 
which behold the state of the world with the eyes of flesh and 
blood, dim by reason of the weakness of their judgments 
and weakness of their affections, think all things are out 
of order, that there is nothing but confusion and disorder. 
That the worse men are, the better they fare ; and they fare 
the worse, the better they are. But if they did but once as- 
cend into the sanctuary of God, and judge of occurrences by 
heavenly principles, then they would confess, that no army 
on earth can be better marshalled than the great army of 
all the creatures of heaven and earth ; and that, notwith- 
standing all appearance to the contrary, all is well, and will 
end well ; that God, who is the God of order, will bring 
light out of darkness, and order out of the greatest confu- 
sion, could they have but patience, and let him alone with 
his own work. — Spencer. 

D D 2 



404 



PROVIDENCE. 



It is reckoned that the Hebrew camp wanted not less 
than ninety-four thousand four hundred and sixty-six bushels 
of manna every day : and that in the whole of the forty 
years that they were travelling about in the wilderness, they 
must have consumed one thousand three hundred and 
seventy millions two thousand six hundred bushels. How 
large are the temporal wants of all mankind ! Yet they 
are small when compared with the bounty of God, 

Strengthen thy faith on the providence of God for the 
things of this life. A distrustful heart is ever thoughtful : 
whatever he is doing, his thoughts will be on that he fears 
he shall lose. When the merchant's adventure is insured, 
(that whatever comes he cannot lose much. ) his heart then 
is at rest, he can eat his bread with quiet, and sleep without 
dreaming of shipwrecks and pirates ; while another, whose 
estate is at sea. and fears what will become of it. 0 how is this 
poor man haunted wherever he is going 5 whatever he is doing, 
with disquieting thoughts? If he hears the wind but a little 
loud, he cannot sleep, for fear of his ship at sea. Truly, thus a 
soul by faith rolled on the promise in prayer, will find a happy 
deliverance from that disturbance which another is pestered 
with ; wherefore God in particular directs us to lay this bur- 
den from our shoulders on his, when we go to pray, that no 
bye-thoughts, arising from these our cares, may disturb us. 
" Be careful for nothing, but let your requests be made 
known to God. " Phil. iv. As if he had said, leave me to 
take care for your work, and mind you do mine : if things go 
amiss in your estates, names, families. I will take the blame, 
and °"ive vou leave to sav God was not careful enough tor 
vou. If we have but a faithful servant, (who we believe 
looks to business as carefully as our own selves. ) this makes 
us go forth with a free and quiet spirit, and not trouble our- 
selves with what it done at homes when we are abroad. 
Oh ! then, let us be ashamed if our faith on God's provi- 
dence be not much more able to ease us of the burthen of 
distracting cares. 

The wisdom of the Creator is discovered by observing the 
league of the elements from whence all mixed bodies arise. 
Of how different qualities are earth, water, air. fire ! Yet 



PROVIDENCE. 



405 



all combine together without the destruction of their enmity ; 
that is as necessary to preserve nature as their friendship. 
Can there be imagined a greater discord than that which 
subsists in the parts of the elementary world, and a greater 
concord in the whole ? To reduce them to such an equili- 
brium,that all their operations promote the same end, proves 
that there is a providence that has an absolute dominion 
over all things, and tempers them accordingly. The same 
wisdom is manifest in regulating the contending forces of 
good and evil. How opposite are these two great powers, 
as only calculated to work the destruction one of the other 
—yet each are bringing forth the designs of God's provi- 
dence. Amidst the seeming discord there reigns a perfect 
harmony. Nothing is suffered to destroy their equilibrium ; 
unitedly they are working for the same end, and bringing 
about one grand and final result. 

Supposing, at rising in the morning, we found a loaf added 
to our provisions, which we could be certain that neither we 
nor any human being had put there, we should then have no 
difficulty in saying that the Lord had sent it. Yet we ac- 
tually find such a loaf every morning added to our provisions, 
and it is equally true that God has sent it ; and because he 
has sent it in a less direct and extraordinary manner, namely, 
by strengthening our own powers, and blessing our labours 
to obtain it, and because this is an ordinary case, and what 
is taking place all the world over, therefore we find it diffi- 
cult to realise in it, his goodness, his providence, and him- 
self. — Krummacher. 

If we see a watch which has been taken to pieces, and 
look on the various pins and wheels which are lying in con- 
fusion, we can little understand the admirable machine, and 
the beauty and harmony they will present to us when ad- 
justed in their several places. And so the great variety and 
acts of Providence appear to us but the most absolute dis- 
order and confusion in their present aspect, but soon, when 
we shall behold them no longer in a glass darkly, but within 
the veil, they will exhibit the most perfect harmony. 

A miracle perpetuated soon ceases to appear a miracle. 
There is an eastern story of a boy having challenged his 



406 



PROVIDENCE. 



teacher to prove to him the existence of God by working a 
miracle. The teacher, who was a priest, got a large vessel 
filled with earth, wherein he deposited a kernel in the boy's 
presence, and bade him pay attention. In the place where 
the kernel was put, a green shoot suddenly appeared ; the 
shoot became a stem; the stem put forth leaves and 
branches, which soon spread over the whole apartment. It 
then budded with blossoms, which, dropping off, left golden 
fruits in their place, and in the short space of one hour there 
stood a noble tree in the place of the little seed. The youth, 
overcome with amazement, exclaimed, " Now I know that 
there is a God, for I have seen his power !" The priest smiled 
at him and said, "Simple child, do you only now believe? 
Does not what you have just beheld take place in innume- 
rable instances year after year only by a slow process? But is 
it the less marvellous on that account ?" — Krummacher. 

Let us suppose any one of you to be under severe domes- 
tic affliction, or embarrassment for debt, for instance, and 
threatened with arrest in default of immediate payment ; 
you wrestle with God in prayer that he would help you, and 
his providence sends you the very help you want, your heart 
is then melted with thankfulness, and you are disposed to 
say, "Truly the Lord liveth, and seeth, he heareth and 
answereth prayer." But suppose that very night your house 
is broken into, your money stolen, and all your embarrass- 
ments return. Again, suppose that with much laborious 
industry you have acquired the means of renting a farm, you 
employ your whole little capital upon it, and you pray God 
that it would please him to bless your labour with increase 
for the support of your family, and then you behold the seed 
spring up, and your fields bountifully verdant. Thanks be 
to God, you will say, I now see his goodness to his crea- 
tures. But in a few weeks, perhaps a dry summer, or a 
season of excessive rain, disappoints you of all. What is your 
language now in cases of this sort ? Do you not call them 
hard trials, and account them the more severe because they 
have come upon you in the ordinary way of Providence ? 
Had they been more like Job's afflictions, something out of 
the common way, you are apt to imagine that you could have 



PROVIDENCE. 



407 



borne them better; you would then have seen that they 
came from God, and you are perhaps vain enough to sup- 
pose you would have displayed extraordinary patience 
under them. For instance, had the money that you had so 
wonderfully received, been melted in your coffer by a thun- 
derbolt, then you would have said, " The Lord gave, and 
the Lord hath taken away." Job. i. 21. But now, as it has 
been carried off by thieves, you are apt to think these 
words inapplicable to your case ; and as you cannot think 
that it is the Lord who has taken it away, you are presently 
open to another suggestion, " Perhaps it was not the Lord 
who gave it to me, else why should he not have preserved 
it to me ?" — Ibid. 

The providence of God to his saints here, while on this 
low bottom of earth, are mixed and party-coloured, as was 
signified by the speckled horses in Zechariah's vision. 
Zech. i. 8. Red and white, peace and war, joy and sorrow, 
chequer our days. Earth is a middle place, between heaven 
and hell, and so is our state here, it partakes of both ; we 
go up hill and down hill, till we get to our journey's end; 
yea, we find the deepest slough nearest to our Father's 
house. Death I mean, into which all the other troubles of 
our life fall, as streams into some great river, with which 
they all end, and are swallowed up. 

You believe in the existence of lately discovered planets, 
and in other astronomical facts which you yourself have 
never observed, and you would think it absurd scepticism in 
any man to doubt them. Why ? Because all who have 
used the proper glasses, and carefully made the proper ob- 
servations, concur in affirming the truth. Now you will 
find no sincere Christian of long standing and observation 
but will tell you he has had many, and decisive proofs in 
their number and coincidence that his prayer was heard, and 
practically answered in the occurrences of his life. How- 
ever widely devout men disagree in other points, in this they 
are well agreed ; and very many have declared that things 
have never gone well with them when their morning prayers 
have been distracted, cold, and languid. To suppose it is 
with all these witnesses the dream of superstition, is not less 



408 



PROVIDENCE. 



irrational than it would be to suppose that all the observers 
of the Georgium Sidus, of Pallas, and Ceres, have been de- 
ceived by meteors, or some defect in their glasses. To say 
that the majority of persons have no such evidence, who do 
not pray aright, and live right, in order to secure answers 
to their prayers, would be as idle an objection as that the 
planets just mentioned have not been seen by those who 
never looked for them in a proper direction, and by the aid 
of a proper telescope. — Hannah Moore's Life. 

Throughout the natural world we see everything, how- 
ever interesting or valuable in itself, serving some other 
purpose. We are refreshed with the fragrance, and delight- 
ed with the beauty of the vernal bloom ; and most certainly 
this was the purpose of the great Benefactor ; but evidently 
not the chief purpose : the bloom disappears, and other ob- 
jects succeed still more valuable, because more intimately 
conducive to human comfort. Yet this greater benefit is 
really conferred but by the way : for, as the blossom contained 
the embryo of fruit, so the fruit contains the embryo of trees. 
Can we suppose that this plan of successive advancement 
does not hold as fully in providence as in nature, or that 
any event can terminate in itself in the one more than in the 
other? But if there be the same fruitfulness, and the same 
progression, what a view does it give one of the grandeur of 
final results, since our own observation tells us that there is 
no restriction within a narrow circle, in providential, as in 
natural causes and effects. In the latter the blossom pro- 
duces fruit, the fruit seed, the seed a tree, and there it begins 
again ; but in providence, every succeeding stage of the 
progress involves new combinations, and consequently teems 
with new powers ; so that in this great sphere of divine 
action, there is illimitable improvement to be reckoned on. 

The poison which is conveyed in the denial of a special 
and peculiar providence, carries its antidote in its own arrant 
nonsense. According to this scheme there could be no 
room for prayer. Thus the whole scheme of this world 
would be nothing more than a great and stupendous automa- 
ton : the framer of which it may be impossible not to ad- 
mire ; but with whom, in our daily concerns, and the course 



PROVIDENCE. 



409 



of our lives, we have no more directly to do, than we should 
have with a clockniaker, who had furnished us with a clock 
which went so well as never to require its maker's inter- 
ference. 

Believe in God's providence. Mungo Park, an enter- 
prising traveller who went out to explore the river Niger, 
while on his return from it, on his way to the river Gambia, 
was robbed by some Foulahs, and stripped of everything. 
At this time he was in a desert destitute of every necessary 
of life, and five hundred miles from any European settle- 
ment. In a state of despair he thought that he must perish, 
but while he glanced his eye around he beheld a moss in 
flower, and struck with the delicate conformation of its root, 
leaves, and capsule, he thought, is it possible that this little 
plant could have bloomed and blossomed here, if there was 
not a superintending providence presiding even in the 
wilderness ? If God can care for a little moss, will he not 
care for me ? From this moment his heart was encouraged, 
he felt inwardly strengthened, and committed himself to the 
care of Providence. And did the Lord disappoint his con- 
fidence in him ? He suffered it to be tried for three days. 
At that time a slave-merchant at Kumatia was passing on 
his way, who received him, and administered to his wants. 
Let a believer thus reason, and trust like him. 

The professors of wisdom, like the foolish Harpaste that 
Seneca speaks of, who, insensible of her own blindness, always 
complained the sun was down and the house dark, thought 
all things were left at random, in loose disorder, and con- 
fusion here below. Nay, some of the clearest spirits, and 
most virtuous among the heathen, could not reconcile the 
oppressions and infelicities of good men, and the prosperity 
of the wicked, with the rectitude and equity of the divine 
Providence ; and expressed their discontents in the style 
and accent of their passions. Of this we have two eminent 
instances : Brutus, who, with inviolable integrity, had as a 
senator managed the public affairs, and with undeclining 
courage endeavoured to recover his country from ignomi- 
nious bondage ; when vanquished by the usurpers, broke 
out into a tragical complaint, O virtue, I worship thee as a 



410 



PROVIDENCE. 



substantial good, a deity ; but thou art an empty name, an 
idol. The Emperor Titus, who was the delight of mankind 
for his goodness and benignity, surprised with death in his 
flourishing age, accused Heaven that his life was unjustly 
snatched from him. The ways and thoughts of God in the 
government of the world, are above the ways and thoughts 
of men, as the heavens are higher than the earth. And if 
his wisdom had not descended from heaven, and discovered 
itself in the sanctuary, we should be foolish, and like the 
beasts that perish. 

Take the case of two persons, one of whom believes in a 
particular and superintending Providence, while the other 
regards God merely as the general governor of the world. 
This man is like a ship without rudder or guide on board, 
which is left to the mercy of the winds and waves, and con- 
strained to yield to every storm. But the other, who has a 
firm belief in God's overruling and special care for his peo- 
ple, is like the ship which has not only a rudder, but an able 
pilot on board, and thus guided can sail in security. 

Some have entertained the erroneous opinion that as a 
clock formed by an artificer, and the weights drawn up, 
regularly strikes the hours, and continues its motion and 
sound, in the absence of the artificer, so the perpetual con- 
currence of the Divine Providence is not necessary for the 
support and operations of every creature ; but nature may 
work of itself, and turn the wheels of all things within its 
compass. But the instance is defective, there being an ex- 
treme disparity between the work of an artificer, in forming 
a clock, whose matter is independent of him, and* God's 
giving the first being to the creatures with powers to act by 
his actual concurrence : for every creature is maintained by 
a successive continual production. And every fresh pro- 
duction is no other than a new creation, and calls for the 
exercise of the same miraculous power as was employed in 
the formation of the first creature. 



REASON. 



411 



Itoon. 

Reason is God's candle in man. But as a candle must 
first be lighted, ere it will enlighten, so reason must be illu- 
minated by divine grace, ere it can savingly discern spiritual 
things. 

If any divine mystery seems incredible, 'tis from the cor- 
ruption of our reason, not from reason itself ; from its dark- 
ness, not its light ; and as reason is obliged to correct the 
errors of sense when 'tis deceived either by some vicious 
quality in the organ, or by the distance of the object, or by 
the falseness of the medium, that corrupts the image in con- 
veying it, so is it the office of faith to reform the judg- 
ment of reason, when, either from its own weakness or the 
height of things spiritual, 'tis mistaken about them. 

By the light of reason we cast a sort of glaring illusion 
around ourselves, but if confided in, it tends only to obscure 
our vision of more exalted glories. Illuminate this town, 
the streets are light while the heavens are lost in darkness ; 
but when the day breaks forth, both the earth and the sky 
become visible. So the sparks of our own kindling, while 
they shed an artificial brilliancy for a short distance around 
us, involve the scenes above even in darker shadows than 
those of night ; but if the dayspring from on high dawn on 
our souls, we have clear views both of earth and heaven. 



If I were to represent to you in a figure the condition of 
man as a sinner, and his recovery by the cross of Christ, I 
should do it somewhat in this way. Suppose a large grave- 
yard, surrounded by a high wall, with only one entrance, 
which is by a large iron gate that is fast bolted and barred. 



412 



REDEMPTION. 



Within these walls are thousands and tens of thousands of 
human beings, of all ages, and of all classes, by one epidemic 
disease bending to the grave which yearns to swallow them 
up. This is the condition of man as a sinner. And while 
man was in this deplorable condition, Mercy, the darling 
attribute of Deity, came down and stood at the gate, looked 
at the scene, and weeping over it exclaimed, " 0 that I 
might enter, I would bind up their wounds, I would relieve 
their sorrows, I would save their souls." While Mercy 
stood at the gate weeping, an embassy of angels, commis- 
sioned from the court of heaven to some other world, passing 
over, paused at the sight ; (Heaven forgave the pause ;) and, 
seeing Mercy standing there, they said, " Mercy, Mercy, 
canst thou not enter ? Canst thou look on the scene, and 
not pity ?"canst thou pity, and not relieve ?" Mercy replied, 
" I can see," and in tears added, " I can pity, but I cannot 
relieve." " Why canst thou not enter?" "Oh," said Mercy, 
" Justice has barred the gate against me, and I cannot, I 
must not enter it." At this moment Justice himself appeared, 
as if to watch the gate. The angels inquired of him, why 
he would not let Mercy enter ? Justice replied, " My law 
is broken, and it must be honoured. Die they, or Justice 
must." At this moment there appeared amongst the angels 
a form like unto the Son of God ; who addressing himself 
to Justice said, " What are thy demands?" Justice replied, 
" My terms are stern and rigid ; I must have sickness for their 
health ; I must have ignominy for their honour ; I must have 
death for their life ; without shedding of blood there is no 
remission." " Justice," said the Son of God, " I accept 
thy terms ; on me be this wrong. Let Mercy enter." 
" When," said Justice, " wilt thou perforin this promise ?" 
" Four thousand years hence ; upon the hill of Calvary, with- 
out the gates of Jerusalem, I will perform it, in my own 
person." The deed was prepared, and signed in the pre- 
sence of God. Justice was satisfied ; and Mercy entered, 
preaching salvation in the name of Jesus. The deed was 
committed to the patriarchs, by them to the kings of Israel, 
and the prophets ; by them it was preserved till Daniel's 
seventy weeks were accomplished. Then, at the appointed 



RELIGION. 



413 



time, Justice appeared on the hill of Calvary, and Mercy 
presented to him the important deed. " Where," said Justice, 
" is the Son of God ?" " Behold him," replied Mercy, " at 
the bottom of the hill, bearing his own cross." She then de- 
parted and stood aloof. At the hour of trial Jesus ascended 
the hill; while in his train followed his weeping church. 
Justice immediately presented to him the deed, saying, 
<k This is the day when the bond is to be executed." When 
he received it, did he tear it to pieces, and give it to the 
winds of heaven ? Oh no ; he nailed it to the cross, ex- 
claiming, " It is finished !" Justice called down holy fire 
to consume the sacrifice. Holy fire descended ; it swallowed 
up his humanity, but when it touched his divinity, it expired. 
And there was darkness'over the whole heavens, but " glory 
to God in the highest ; on earth peace, good will to men." — 
Christian Evans. 

No one can be said to meditate aright on redemption by 
Christ, who does not behold God's manifold wisdom, as 
well as his other perfections, displayed therein. As we con- 
clude him a very unskilful observer of a curious picture, or 
statue, who only takes notice of its dimensions in general, 
or the matter of which it is composed, its colouring, or frame 
work, without considering the symmetry and proportion of 
all its parts, the mind, the genius, and intelligence shown in 
its design — so it is unworthy and below a Christian to be able 
only to say that Christ is a Saviour, or to have a general idea 
of this scheme of mercy, without having his thoughts suitably 
affected with the wonders of love and grace which it contains, 
and the design of all, and the adaptation of every part, to 
set forth the glory of the triune Jehovah. 



HUKfiton. 

Religion is the golden chain, which God lets down from 
heaven, with a link for every person in this room, inviting- 
each to take hold, that you may be drawn by it to himself. 



414 



RELIGION. 



You can readily perceive how disagreeable it would be to be 
linked to one whom you disliked, and drawn by him whither 
soever he wills ; but you would gladly be drawn and guided 
in everything by the person whom you ardently loved. 
There is this difference between the Christian and the sinner. 
However reluctant and full of hatred, still the sinner is 
controlled by God ; the Christian is equally in his hands, but 
is drawn by the cords of love. 

Her religion was all text, at once compendious and com- 
prehensive — in its sacred, a span long — but in its moral 
dimensions as large as life, and all its charities. It was always 
in preparation and ready for use. — Hannah More's Life. 

Religion is by St. Paul described to be " the spirit of 
power," in opposition to the spirit of fear, as all sin is by 
Simplicius well described to be " impotency and weak- 
ness." Sin, like a poison, by its deadly infusions into the 
soul of man, wastes, and eats out the innate vigour of the 
soul, and casts it into such a deep lethargy, as that it is 
not able to recover itself ; but religion, like the balsam of 
life, being once conveyed into the soul, awakens and enlivens 
it, and makes it renew its strength like an eagle, and mount 
strongly upwards towards heaven ; and so uniting the soul 
to God, the centre of life and strength, it renders it undaunted 
and invincible. Who can tell the inward life and vigour 
that the soul may be filled with, when once it is in conjunc- 
tion with an Almighty essence? There is a latent and 
hidden virtue in the soul of man, which then begins to dis- 
cover itself when the divine spirit of religion spreads forth 
its influences upon it. 

God treats the young believer as he treated the spies 
that went to discover the land of promise ; he ordered the 
year in plenty, and directed them to a pleasant and fruit, 
ful place, and prepared bunches of grapes of a miraculous 
and prodigious greatness, that they might report good 
things of Canaan, and invite the whole nation to attempt its 
conquest : so God's grace represents to the new converts, 
and the weak ones in faith, the pleasures and first delicious- 
ness of religion ; and when they come to spy good things of 
the way that leads to heaven, they presently perceive them- 



RELIGION. 



415 



selves eased of a load of an evil conscience, of their fears of 
death, of the confusion of their shame ; and God's Spirit 
gives them a cup of sensible comfort, and makes them to 
rejoice in their prayers, and weep with pleasure, mingled 
with innocent passion, and religious changes. 

Some persons there are who dare not sin ; they dare not 
omit their hours of prayer, and they are restless in their 
spirits till they have done ; but they go to it as to execution ; 
they stay from it as long as they can, and they drive, like 
Pharaoh's chariots with the wheels off, sadly, and heavily ; 
and, besides that such persons have reserved to themselves 
the best part of their sacrifice, and do not give their will 
to God ; they do not love him with all their heart ; they 
are also soonest tempted to retire and fall off. Sextus 
Romanus resigned the honours and offices of the city, and 
betook himself to the severity of a philosophical life ; but 
when his unusual diet, and hard labour began to pinch his 
flesh, and he felt his propositions smart ; and that which 
was fine in discourse, at symposiack, or an academical dinner, 
began to sit uneasily upon him in the practice, he so de- 
spaired that he had like to have cast himself into the sea, 
to appease the labours of his religion ; because he had never 
gone farther than to think it a fine thing to be a wise man : 
he would commence it, but he was loth to pay for it at the 
price that God and the philosopher set upon it. But he 
that is " grown in grace," and hath made religion habitual 
to his spirit, is not at ease but when he is doing the works 
of a new man : he rests in religion, and comforts his sorrows 
with thinking of his hours of prayer ; and in all crosses of 
the world he is patient, because his joy is at hand to refresh 
him when he list, for he cares not so he may serve God ; 
and if you make him poor here, he is rich there, and he 
counts that to be his proper service, his work, his recreation, 
and reward. 

Beware of laying a disproportionate stress upon circum- 
stantials, externals, and comparatively little things in reli- 
gion, to the neglect of the grand and leading doctrines of 
the gospel. It is well to be minutely conscientious, and to 
have every pin, and every nail in a building properly placed : 



416 



RELIGION. 



but the building cannot subsist without the foundation and 
the main pillars which support the superstructure. To be 
always busy about pins, nails, or some ornaments of the 
building, to the neglect of the grand supporters of the whole 
fabric, is a proof of a little mind, and less grace : and that 
soul cannot thrive w T ell. 

The pleasures of religion are not confined to the times of 
actual devotion ; like some perfumes, they diffuse their 
odours through all times and seasons, refreshing and ex- 
hilarating by the remembrance of the past, and the antici- 
pation of the future. It is a treasure possessed when not 
employed ; a reserve of consolation and strength, ready to 
be called into action when most needed ; a fountain of 
sweets to which we may continually repair, whose waters 
are inexhaustible. 

True religion does not resemble a few single plants, per- 
haps exotics, in a foreign climate, and an unwilling soil, 
which, raised with anxious care, a sudden frost may nip, or a 
sudden blight may wither ; but it is the wide- spread vege- 
tation of the meadow which springs up in one unvaried face 
of verdure, beauty, and fertility. There is ever a fresh fra- 
grance flowing from the rose of Sharon, increasing in sweet- 
ness ; still undiscovered tints of beauty expanding them- 
selves to our admiring eyes. So it is with the Christian 
united to Christ, because he is of one spirit with Christ. 

The line which divides the kingdom of God from the 
empire of sin is so fine, that, like the line of geometry, it is 
length without breadth, it occupies no part of the territories 
which it defines ; it creates no border land, no neutral 
ground. " He that is not with me, is against me ;" and he 
that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad ;" a sentence 
which separates the world into two classes ; assigning over 
to the dominion of Satan the lukewarm with the hostile ; 
and leaving them to discover, that whereas they had ex- 
pected to find themselves standing at least on neutral ground, 
they are actually, and considerably within the frontiers of 
the kingdom of darkness. — Harris. 

The religion of Christ is a jewel of inestimable, and un- 
changeable value, but it has been disfigured, or beautifully 



RELIGION. 



417 



set, according to the condition of the public feeling or know- 
ledge, at different periods of the world. A pearl (it is said) 
of ineffable price, has been delivered into the custody of man 
by the eternal Son of God himself, given them not only to be 
their chiefest joy and pride, but to be as the very talisman 
of their place and safety ; their symbol of life and victory. 
But the genius of this world is incessantly at work to con- 
vert it to its own likeness. Men have encircled it with the 
" wisdom of the wise" and its celestial brightness has been 
straightway surrounded with the feeble and unsteady glitter 
of earth-born philosophy. This inestimable diamond has 
been set in earthly gold, it has been made to shine in the 
midst of gems which had been dug up by the spirit of Mam- 
mon, and been thus brought to countenance the service of 
God and Mammon. And again, this elect and precious stone 
has been seized on by the world and the flesh, until its 
heavenly splendours have been dispersed and broken amidst 
the unhallowed flames which the lust of the flesh, and the 
lust of the eye, and the pride of life, have poured around it. 

The christian dispensation is distinguished for its simpli- 
city in the worship of God. Superstition delights in intro- 
ducing carnal rites, and values itself upon its own opinion- 
ative goodness. These men mistake the swelling of a 
dropsy for a substantial growth, and presume themselves to 
be more holy than others, for their proud singularity. Su- 
perstition is like ivy that twines about the tree, and is its 
seeming ornament, but draws its vital sap, and under its 
verdant leaves covers a carcass. Thus carnal ceremonies 
seem to adorn religion, but really dispirit and weaken its 
efficacy. The spiritual pride of the superstitious discovers 
itself in some in the observance of things uncommanded in 
religion ; in others, on the contrary, in pretending to be 
above the use of divine ordinances. 

Men's notions on the things of religion, apart from the 
Scriptures, are like the mules, begotten by equivocal and 
unnatural generations ; but they make no species — they are 
begotten, but they can beget nothing— they can do no 

E E 



418 



RELIGION. 



good when they are produced ; they are not what Solomon 
calls " the way of understanding." 

Good and evil are so mingled together in this system of 
things, that there is scarcely any event so productive of 
evil as not to have some good mixed with it, direct or indi- 
rect ; and scarcely any so good as not to be attended with 
some proportion of evil, or at least what seems to us to be 
evil. Religion enables us to look at the bright and sunny 
side — the assurance " that all things work for good" 
changes the aspect of them with those who are in covenant 
with God. As believers we cannot indeed alter the real 
nature of things, but we render them, in their relation to us, 
very nearly the same as if their nature were really altered. 
Pure religion is a source of light within us, an everlasting 
sunshine, which we can throw on everything around, till it 
reflect on us what has beamed from our own serene heart ; 
like that great luminary in the heavens, which, ever moving 
through a world of darkness, is still on every side surrounded 
with the radiance which flows from itself, and cannot appear 
without converting night into the cheerfulness of day. 

The views of God and happiness, which are entertained 
by the mind enlightened by grace, are wonderfully different 
from those of one who has the veil yet on his heart. We see, 
under a change of circumstances, what opposite conclusions 
are formed by men in daily life. One who views nature under 
a fit of the gout or an indigestion, sees nothing in it but 
what is gloomy ; but when restored, he is surprised to find 
different views breaking upon him, of beauty in the universe, 
and benevolence in its author. But the change has arisen 
not from any greater brightness of the sky, or from any hap- 
pier objects that surround him, but from the mere cessation 
of that paroxysm which had shed, while it lasted, its own 
darkness on the scene. It is as little possible for one, who 
is blinded by sin and worldliness, to look on God and reli- 
gion in the same light as that happier mind which beholds 
them in their truth and reality, as for one to whose eyes the 
sunshine has never carried light, to think of the surface of 
that earth on which he treads with the same feelings of 



RELIGION. 



419 



beauty and admiration as the multitudes around him, whose 
eyes are awake to all the colours that adorn it. 

A gardener, when he transplanted a tree out of one ground 
into another, before the tree take root he sets stays to it, he 
poureth water at the root of it daily; but when it once 
taketh root, he ceaseth to water it any more, and pulleth 
away the stays that he set to uphold it, and suffereth it to 
grow with the ordinary influence of the heavens. So the 
Lord, in planting of religion, he put to the help of miracles 
as helps to stay it ; but when it was once confirmed and 
fastened, and had taken deep rooting, he took away such 
helps ; so that, as St. Augustine hath it, " He that looketh 
for a miracle, is a miracle himself ; for if the death of Christ 
will not work faith, all the miracles in the world will not do 
it. — Spencer. 

Let us for a moment suppose, (what can never be proved,) 
that mankind are now much better able to investigate the 
truth, and to find out their duty by themselves, than they 
were in former ages ; and that reason can give us (the ut- 
most it ever did or can pretend to give) a perfect system of 
morality. But what will that avail us, unless it can be 
shown that man is also perfect and uncorrupt? A religion 
that contains nothing more than a perfect system of mora- 
lity, might perhaps suit an angel, but it is only one part, it 
is only a subordinate part, of the religion of a man and a 
sinner. It would be but very poor consolation to a noble- 
man expecting to be led forth for execution, to put into his 
hand a complete collection of the laws of his country, when 
the poor wretch perhaps expected a reprieve. It could serve 
no other purpose than to embitter his agonies, and make him 
see more clearly the justice of his condemnation. If you 
choose to do the unhappy man a real service, and to give 
him any substantial comfort, you must assure him that the 
offence for which he was going to die was forgiven him ; that 
his sentence was reversed ; that he would not only be 
restored to his prince's favour, but put in a way of preserv- 
ing it for the future ; and if his conduct afterwards was 
honest and upright, he should be deemed capable of enjoy- 
ing the highest honours in his master's kingdom. But no one 

e e 2 



420 



RELIGION. 



could tell him this, or at least he would credit no one that 
did, except he was commissioned and authorised by the 
prince himself to tell him so. He might study the laws in 
his hands till the very moment of his execution, without 
ever finding out from them that he should obtain a pardon. 
Such, the scriptures inform us, was the state of man before 
Christ came into the world. The sentence of death had 
passed upon him, and he had no plea to offer to arrest the 
execution of it. Reason, you say, gives him a perfect rule 
to walk by. But he has already transgressed this rule, and 
if even this transgression were cancelled, yet if left to him- 
self he may transgress it again the next moment. He is 
uneasy under his sentence, he wants forgiveness for the past, 
assistance for the future, and the prospect of being restored 
to the honours and favour of the King of heaven, which 
he has forfeited by rebellion • and till you can give him this, 
it is an insult upon his misery to talk to him of a perfect 
rule of action. If this be all that reason can give him, (and 
it really is much more than it can give him,) he must neces- 
sarily have recourse to revelation. God only knows, and 
God only can tell, whether he will forgive, and upon what 
terms he will forgive the offences done against him ; what 
mode of worship he requires ; what helps he will afford us, 
and what condition he will place us in hereafter. All this 
God actually has told us in the gospel. It was to tell us this 
he sent his Son into the world. 

The Christian should mark the worldly man's discretion in 
ordering the equipment of his house and gardens. If he 
sees any article of convenience and luxury within the reach 
of his means, he is glad to transfer it to his quarters. If he 
meets with good fruit, he is desirous to get a graft of the 
tree to enrich his garden. How much more should the 
believer labour to improve his estate ! When he sees any 
solid attainments of grace, any lovely fruits of righteousness 
which he is not possessed of, how anxiously should he seek 
to transplant them into his soul ! 

There is a story, how divers ancient fathers came to St. 
Anthony, inquiring of him what virtue did by a direct line 
lead to perfection, that so a man might shun the snares of 



REPENTANCE. 



421 



Satan. He bade every one of them speak his opinion ; one 
said, watching and sobriety ; another said, fasting and disci- 
pline ; a third said, humble prayer ; a fourth said, poverty 
and obedience ; and another, piety and works of mercy : but 
when every one had told his mind, his answer was, that all 
these were excellent graces indeed, but discretion was the 
chief of them all. And so without all doubt it is, being the 
very guide of all virtuous and religious actions, the modera- 
tor and orderer of all the affections ; for whatsoever is done 
with it, is virtue, and whatsoever without, vice ; an ounce of 
discretion is said to be worth a pound of learning : as zeal 
without knowledge is blind, so knowledge without discre- 
tion is lame, like a sword in a madman's hand, able to do 
much, apt to do nothing. He that will fast must fast with 
discretion ; he must so mortify that he do not kill his flesh ; 
he that giveth alms to the poor must do it with discretion, to 
every one that asketh ; but not every thing that he doth ask : 
so likewise pray with discretion, observing place and time ; 
place, lest he be reputed a hypocrite ; time, lest he be ac- 
counted a heretic : and thus it is, that discretion is to be made 
the guide of all religious performances. — Spencer. 

A father that had three sons was desirous to try their dis- 
cretion, which he did by giving to each of them an apple 
that had some part of it rotten. The first eats up his apple, 
rotten and all ; the second throws all his away, because some 
part of it was rotten ; but the third picks out the rotten, and 
eats that which was good, so that he appeared the wisest : 
thus, some in these days, for want of discretion, swallow 
down all that is presented, rotten and sound altogether ; 
others throw away all truth, because everything delivered 
unto them is not truth, but surely they are the wisest and 
most discreet, that know how to try the spirits whether they 
be of God or not — how to choose the good and refuse the 
evil. — Ibid. 



Repentance. 

There is a story of a devout man, who had, amongst many 
other virtues, the gift of healing, unto whom divers made 



422 



REPENTANCE. 



resort for cure : amongst the rest, one Chromatins, being 
sick, sent for him ; being come, he told him of his sickness, 
and desired that he might have the benefit of cure as others 
had before him. I cannot do it, (said the holy man,) till thou 
hast beaten all the idols and images in thy house to pieces. 

0 that shall be done, said Chromatius ; here, take my keys, 
and where you find any images, let them be defaced ; which 
was done accordingly. To prayer went the holy man, but 
no cure was done. O (saith he) I am as sick as ever, very 
weak and sick. It cannot be otherwise, (replied the holy 
man,) nor can I help it; there is one idol yet in your house un- 
discovered, and that must be defaced too. True, (says Chro- 
matins,) it is so indeed, it is all of beaten gold, it cost 200/. ; 

1 would fain have saved it ; but here, take my keys again, 
you shall find it fast locked up in my chest ; break it all to 
pieces. Which being done, the holy man prayed, and Chro- 
matius was healed. Thus ends the story, but here begins the 
moral of it. The case is ours ; we are all of us, by nature, 
spiritually sick, full of wounds and putrefied sores ; the spi- 
ritual physician tells us, that if we look for any amendment, 
it must be by the amendment of our lives : he prescribes re- 
pentance of our sins ; that we are willing to do in part, but 
not in whole ; we would fain keep one Delilah, one darling 
beloved sin, but it must not be, there must not be one sin 
unrepented of, we must repent as well for our Achans as our 
Absaloms ; our Rimmons, as our Mammons ; our Davids, as 
our Goliahs ; our covert, as well as our open sins ; our loved, 
as our loathed lusts ; our heart abominations as well as 
loathed scandal ; our babe-iniquities, as well as giant provo- 
cations : our repentance must be universal. — Spencer. 

Anselm, sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, whom the 
church of Rome hath inserted into the canon of saints, (but 
he ranketh himself among the Apocrypha of sinners,) re- 
counting with heart's grief and sorrow the whole course of 
his life, and finding the infancy of sin in the sins of his in- 
fancy, the youth and growth of sin in the sins of his growth, 
and the maturity and ripeness of all sin in the sins of his 
ripe and perfect age, breaketh forth into this passionate 
speech — " What remains for thee, wretched man, but that 



REPENTANCE. 



423 



thou spend the remainder of thy life in bewailing thy whole 
life ?" And thus must we do, considering that even when 
we pray against sin, we sin in praying; when we have made 
holy vows against sin, our vows by the breach of them turn 
into sin ; and upon repentance of sins many there are that 
repent of their repentance, and so increase their sin ; hence 
it is, that St. Jerome, in his epistle to Leta, calleth for a con- 
tinual lent of discipline, that her whole life should be a life 
of repentance. — Ibid. 

A good husband will repair his house while the weather is 
fair, not put it off till winter ; a careful pilot will take advan- 
tage of wind and tide, and so put out to sea, not stay till a 
storm arise. The traveller will take his time in his journey, 
and mind his pace when the night comes on, lest darkness 
overtake him; the smith will strike while the iron is hot, 
lest it grow cool, and so he lose his labour ; so we ought to 
make every day the day of our repentance ; to make use of 
the present time, that when we come to die, we may have 
nothing to do but to die, for there will be a time when there 
will be no place for repentance, when time will be no more ; 
when the door will be shut, when there will be no entrance 
at all. — Ibid. 

I came, says Nehemiah, to Jerusalem, and understood of the 
evil that Eliashib had clone for Tobiah, in preparing for him a 
chamber in the courts of the house of God, and it grieved me 
sore; but he rests not there, but goes further ; therefore I cast 
forth all the household stuff of Tobiah out of the chamber. 
What should Tobiah do with a chamber there? therefore he 
not only outs Tobiah, but out goes all his stuff too. Thus 
doth repentance, when it considers all the evil that Satan 
and corruption have done, that they have taken chambers in 
the heart that should be the house of God, it is grieved sore, 
and therefore it outs Satan and all his stuff : neither he nor 
any of his retinue shall be lodged there any longer, nor any 
one sin shall find the least entertainment. — Ibid. 

We see in religion the same state of things which we see 
in the human body. There are sore diseases beyond remedy ; 
there is another class which will yield to timely remedies, but 
they have this conformity with the former, that they will be- 



424 



RESURRECTION. 



come incurable if neglected, and not brought under the 
power of medicine ; and that which at first was not a serious 
evil, through apathy and indolence becomes a mortal dis- 
ease. And is there no disorder to which the soul is subjected 
which is past all hope of cure 1 If there is " an accepted 
time, a day of salvation'' note, there is also a day predicted 
when " we shall call, and the Lord will not hear." There is 
a day of grace, and there is a day when its last sands have 
run out, and a reprobate mind pronounces that it is " impos- 
sible to renew them again to repentance/' There are also 
many sins which, taken in time, will yield to the heavenly 
physician ; but if we harden our hearts and grieve the 
Holy Spirit, and stifle the voice of grace, will go on from 
worse to worse, and assume a fatal character before we are 
aware of it, and dreaming on in fancied security. 

Every sinner that repents causes joy to the Saviour ; this 
new cup of joy is so full that it runs over, and wets the fair 
brow of cherubim and seraphim, and all the angels have a 
part of that banquet. 

The bent of the mind towards God, on repentance suc- 
ceeding transgression, shows more evidently than ever the 
fixed character of the Christian ; as the needle in the com- 
pass, when shaken, again turns to the pole ; and as the run- 
ning stream appears to Aoav clearer than before, when that 
which polluted it is removed. 



Hesttrrertum. 

You tremble, perhaps, at the thought of laying aside your 
weak, sinful, mortal body. But you will receive it again ; 
not such as it now is, frail, defiled, and perishable; but 
bright with the glory, and perfect in the image of God. The 
body is that to the soul, which a garment is to the body. 
When you betake yourself to repose at night, you lay aside 
your clothes until morning, and resume them when you rise. 
What is the grave but the believer's wardrobe, of which God 



RESURRECTION. 



425 



keeps the door? In the resurrection morning', the door will 
be thrown open, and the glorified soul shall descend from 
heaven to put on a glorified robe, which w T as indeed folded 
up and laid away in dishonour, but shall be taken out from 
the repository enriched and beautified with all the orna- 
ments of nature and of grace. 

There are countenances in the world, which, when united 
with fine forms and composed of superior features, when 
animated with intelligence and moulded by peculiar virtue 
into the clear and strong expression of worth and loveliness, 
fascinate the eye and engross the heart. What, then, must 
be the appearance of that aspect, which is wrought into 
harmony, beauty, and dignity, by the most exquisite work- 
manship of God, inspired with the intelligence of heaven, 
and lighted w T ith the beams of angelic excellence ; around 
which virtue plays with immortal radiance, while joy illu- 
mines the eye with living splendour, and glory surrounds 
the head with its crown of stars. In this manner will be 
arrayed, in this manner adorned, a " multitude which no 
man can number, of all nations, kindreds, and tongues." 
How magnificent, how T sublime, how enrapturing must be 
the prospect of those glorified beings, surrounding, after the 
judgment is terminated, the Lord of all things, and rising 
in his train, as a cloud of splendour, to the mansions of 
eternal joy ! 

I have stood in a smith's forge, and seen him put a rusty, 
cold, dull piece of iron into the fire, and after a while he 
hath taken the same piece, the very same numerical indivi- 
dual piece of iron out of the fire, hot, bright, sparkling ; 
and thus it is with our bodies — they are laid down in the 
grave, dead, heavy, earthly ; but at the resurrection " this 
mortal shall put on immortality at that general conflagra- 
tion, this dead, heavy, earthly body shall arise, living, light- 
some, glorious ; which made Job so confident, " I know that 
my Redeemer liveth, &c; and though after my skin worms 
destroy my body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." Job xix. 
25, 26. — Spencer. 



426 



REWARDS. 



A spouse that is considering with herself whether she 
should marry such a husband or not, beginneth to consider 
what she should be without him, and what she shall have 
with him ; she considers him, perhaps, as one that will pay 
her debts and make her honourable, &c, and yet it may be 
she considers not the man all this while ; however, these 
considerations are good preparations to draw her on to give 
entertainment to him, but after some converse and ac- 
quaintance with the person, she comes to like the man 
himself so well, that she is content to have him, though she 
have nothing with him, and the match is made up betwixt 
them, out of true and sincere love and liking. Thus it is, 
that the proposal of rewards and punishments are, as it 
were, a beginning, a Prodromus, a good introduction to the 
full sight and fruition of God, when it is that men begin at 
first to consider their own misery most, and that if they 
should apply themselves to other things as remedies, they 
would be still to seek ; for there is a vanity in all things ; 
and if to themselves, that they cannot help themselves in 
time of trouble, therefore they judge that they must go to 
Almighty God, who is able to do more than all, and to rid 
them out of misery ; and they consider that going to him 
they shall have heaven besides. Yet all this while they con- 
sider not the Lord's power; however, this consideration 
makes way, that God and they may meet and speak toge- 
ther; it brings their hearts to give way, that the Lord may 
come to them ; it causeth them to attend to him, to look 
upon him, to converse with him, to admit him as a suitor, 
and to be acquainted with him : and whilst they are thus 
conversing with him, God reveals himself ; and then being- 
come to the knowledge of him in himself, they love him for 
himself, are willing to seek his presence, to seek him for a 
husband, though all other things were removed from him ; 
and now the match is made up, and not till now ; and then 
they so look upon him, that if all other advantages were 



REWARDS. 



427 



taken away, they would yet still love him, and not leave 
him for all the world's enjoyments.— Spencer. 

When Ahasuerus read in the book of the records of the 
Chronicles, and there found how Mordecai had discovered 
a plot of treason against his person, he did not lay the book 
aside, and slightly pass by such a piece of service, but 
inquires what honour, and what dignity had been done to 
Mordecai ; it seems, if the king had thought on, or read 
of him sooner, he had rewarded him sooner. But God hath 
ever in his eye all the records and chronicles of his people's 
actions ; he reads their journals every day, and where he 
meets with any that have done or spoken anything aright 
for him, he inquireth what honour, what dignity hath been 
done for this man ? If none hath been done, he will do it 
himself ; if anything hath been done, he will do yet more ; 
not a sigh, not a tear, not a thought, for the glory of Christ 
shall fall unregarded, unrewarded. — Ibid. 



He that goeth a far journey, returneth his money usually 
by a bill of exchange, and carrieth not his money along with 
him, only so much as will defray the charges of his journey, 
and all this for fear of robbing : so the children of God, they 
lay out their money to the poor, they take God's bill of ex- 
change for it, and then it meets them in the world to come, 
and there they do not only receive it, but it receives them 
into everlasting habitations. — Spencer. 

It is a great deal of care and pain that the spider takes in 
weaving her web : she runneth much and often up and 
down, she fetcheth a compass this way and that way, and 
returneth often to the same point ; she spendeth herself in 
multitudes of fine threads to make herself a round cabinet ; 
she exenterateth herself, and worketh out her own bowels, 
to make an artificial and curious piece of work ; which, 



428 



RICHES. 



when it is made, is apt to be blown away with every puff 
of wind : she hangeth it up aloft, she fasteneth it to the roof 
of the house, she strengthened with many a thread, wheel- 
ing often round about, not sparing her own bowels, but 
spending them willingly upon her work; and when she 
hath done all this, spun her fine threads, weaved them one 
within another, wrought herself a fine canopy, hanged it 
aloft, and thinks all sure, on a sudden, in the twinkling of 
an eye, with a little sweep of a besom, all falls to the ground, 
and so her labour perisheth. But here is not all ; poor 
spicier, she is killed either in her own web, or else she is 
taken in her own snare, haled to death, and trodden under 
foot : thus the silly animal may be truly said either to weave 
her own winding sheet, or to make a snare to hang herself. 
Just so do many men waste and consume themselves to get 
preferment, to enjoy pleasures, to heap up riches and in- 
crease them; and to that end they spend all their wit, and 
oftentimes the health of their bodies, running up and down ; 
labouring, and carking, and caring ; and when they have 
done all this, they have but weaved the spider's web to catch 
flies ; yea, oftentimes are caught in their own acts, are made 
instruments of their own destruction : they take a great deal 
of pains with little success, to no end or purpose. — Ibid. 

Look but upon a fly coming to a platter full of sweet and 
pleasant honey; if she thrust not herself altogether into it, 
but only touch and taste it with her mouth, and take no 
more than is necessary and needful, she may safely take 
wing, and fly to another place : but if she wallow and tumble 
in the honey, then is she limed, and taken in it ; and whilst 
she is not able to fly away, she doth there lose her life. 
Thus, if a man take only so much of his riches as may sus- 
tain and honestly maintain his estate, bestowing the rest 
well, and in a christian manner, then they cannot hold him 
back, or bar him from the kingdom of heaven ; but if 
covetousness shall bewitch him, and prick him on to scrape 
and rake together more and more, then he shall never be 
satisfied, but fall into many " snares and temptations, which 
drown men's souls in destruction and perdition." — Ibid. 

Possessions and riches of this world are like a rose in a 



RICHES. 



429 



man's hand ; if he use it gently, it will preserve its savour 
and its scent and colour a great while ; but if he crush it, 
and handle it roughly, it loseth both its colour and its sweet- 
ness. Thus, if a rich man use and employ his wealth well, 
he will possess it the longer ; but if he set his heart too 
much upon it, he will quickly lose it ; he may possess it, but 
by no means must he let his wealth possess him ; if riches 
increase, he must not set his heart upon them. Hence was 
that saying of the heathen, I may lend myself, but I will 
not give myself to my w ealth ; and so must all of us do, if 
ever we intend to become true possessors of worldly riches 
and endowments. — Ibid. 

When Dionysius, the Syracusan tyrant, saw what heaps 
of gold and silver his son had hoarded up in his closet, he 
asked him what he meant to let it lie there, and not to make 
friends of it to get the kingdom after his decease. Son (says 
he) thou hast not a spirit capable of a kingdom. And thus 
we may safely conclude, wheresoever we see a wealthy rich 
man piling up his bags, and purchasing the whole country 
about him, and yet perceive no works of charity or piety in 
him, that he is no heavenly-minded man, and justly say of 
him, he hath not a soul capable of the kingdom of heaven. — 
Ibid. 

iEsop hath a fable of the two frogs, that in the time of 
drought, when the plashes were dry, consulted what was to 
be done ; one advised to go down into a deep well, because 
it was likely the water would not fail there ; the other 
answered, but if it do fail, how shall we get up again? Thus 
riches are a pit, whereinto we soon slip, but can hardly 
scramble out ; small puddles, light gains, will not serve some; 
they must plunge into deep wells, excessive profits ; but they 
do not consider how they shall get out again ; they do not mind 
the great dangers that are attendant upon riches, whereby it 
comes to pass that they are either famished for want of grace, 
or drowned in a deluge of wealth : if, then, this w T orld be a 
sea, over which we must swim to the land of promise, there 
will be no necessity of such abundance of luggage, except it 
be to make us sink the deeper Ibid. 



430 



RIGHTEOUSNESS SELF. 



Htgftteougness— self. 

Sir James Thornhill was the person who painted the 
inside of the cupola of St. Paul's, London. After having 
finished one of the compartments, he stepped back gradually 
to see how it would look at a distance. He receded so far, 
(still keeping his eye intently fixed on the painting,) that he 
was got almost to the very edge of the scaffolding without 
perceiving it : had he continued to retreat, half a minute more 
would have completed his destruction, and he must have fallen 
to the pavement underneath. A person present, who saw the 
danger the great artist was in, had the happy presence of 
mind to suddenly snatch up one of the brushes, and spoil his 
painting by rubbing it over. Sir James, transported with 
rage, sprang forward to save the remainder of the piece. 
But his rage was soon turned into thanks, when the person 
told him, "Sir, by spoiling the painting I have saved the 
life of the painter. You was advanced to the extremity of 
the scaffold without knowing it. Had I called out to you 
to apprise you of your danger, you would naturally have 
turned to look behind you, and the surprise of finding your- 
self in such a dreadful situation would have made you fall 
indeed. I had, therefore, no other method of retrieving you 
but by acting as I did." Similar, if I may so speak, is the 
method of God's dealing with his people. We are all natu- 
rally fond of our own legal performances. We admire them 
to our ruin, unless the Holy Spirit retrieve us from our folly. 
This he does by marring, as it were, our best works ; by 
showing us their insufficiency to justify us before God. 
When we are truly taught of him, we thank him for his 
grace, instead of being angry at having our idols defaced. 
The only way by which we are saved from everlasting de- 
struction, is by being made to see that " by the deeds of 
the law no flesh living shall be justified." 

A young man was recommended to Diogenes for a pupil ; 
and his friends, thinking to give Diogenes a good impres- 
sion concerning his intended disciple, were very lavish in his 



RIGHTEOUSNESS — SELF. 



431 



praises. " Is it so ?" answered the old philosopher ; " if the 
youth is so well accomplished to my hands, and his great 
qualities are already so numerous, he has no need of my 
tuition ; even keep him to yourselves." As little are self- 
righteous people fit for Christ. 

The presence of the solar beams constitutes daylight ; 
and stars, which, during our recess from the sun, spangled 
the sable canopy of night, and glittered to the view of gazing 
nations, not only cease to dazzle, but even forbear to twinkle, 
and become quite invisible, when the monarch of the sky 
regilds our hemisphere with his gladdening smile. The 
superior lustre absorbs the inferior ; and those shining drops 
which so lately attracted our admiration, are lost, absolutely 
lost, in one vast magnificent ocean of light. Such is the 
fate of human righteousness, when Christ, in his fulness of 
mediatorial beauty and grandeur, rises on the soul of a be- 
nighted sinner. In our pharisaical and unconverted state, 
(a state of tenfold deeper than Egyptian darkness,) our 
good works, as we are apt flatteringly to style them, charm 
us with their petty, evanid radiance — 

" As stars, from absent suns, have leave to shine." But 
no sooner is Jesus, by the internal agency of his Spirit, re- 
vealed in our hearts, and his completely finished obedience 
discovered to the eye of faith, than w r e cease going about to 
establish our own righteousness. Self-excellence, and self- 
dependence vanish in that blessed moment ; and the language 
of the soul is, " Thy merits, O thou Redeemer of the lost, 
are all my salvation ; and an interest in thee is all my desire." 

Our own righteousness and endeavours must first make 
the scale of eternal life preponderate in our favour, and then 
the merits of Christ are thrown in to make up good weight. 
The Messiah's obedience and sufferings stand, it seems, for 
mere ciphers, until our own free will shall prefix the initial 
figure, and render them of value. I tremble at the conse- 
quences of a system, which (as one well observes) considers 
the whole mediation of Christ as no more than a pedestal 
on which human worth may stand exalted, nay (to use the 
language of another) which " sinks the Son of God — how 
shall I speak it 1 — into a spiritual huckster, who, having 



432 RIGHTEOUSNESS — SELF. 

purchased certain blessings of liis Father, sells them out after- 
wards to men upon terms and conditions." 

It is equally sad and astonishing to observe the ingredients 
of that foundation on which self-justiciaries build their hopes 
of heaven. First, there is a stratum of free-will, then of 
good dispositions, then of legal performances ; next, a layer 
of what they term divine aids and assistances, ratified and 
made effectual by human compliances; then a little of 
Christ's merits ; then faithfulness to helps received ; and, to 
finish the motley mixture, a perseverance of their own build- 
ing. At so much pains is a Pharisee in going about to es- 
tablish his own righteousness, rather than embrace the 
bible way of salvation, by submitting to the righteousness of 
God the Son. 

Self-righteous people are like a man who has run up 
a very slight house for his own residence ; in which, while 
he sits or sleeps securely, a sudden storm arises, and blows 
down the whole fabric, and buries the builder in ruins. God 
will either bring us out of our self-righteous castle, or crush 
us with its fall. 

Suppose one man owes another a thousand pounds, but 
he is unwilling to pay the debt, and denies that he owes it. 
His creditor, being a very compassionate man, says to him, 
" I do not wish for your money, and as soon as you will own 
the debt to be a just one, I will release you from your obli- 
gations ; but I cannot do it before, for that would be, in fact, 
acknowledging that I am in the wrong." The poor man 
refuses to confess that he owes the money, and is, in conse- 
quence, sent to prison. After remaining there for a time, 
he sends his creditor word that he will allow he owes him 
a hundred pounds. But that will not do. After another 
interval, he says that he will allow that he owes two hundred 
pounds ; and thus he keeps gradually giving up a little 
more, until he gets to nine hundred ; there he stops a long 
while. At length finding there is no other way of escape, 
he acknowledges the whole debt, and is released. Still it 
would be free unmerited kindness in the creditor, and the 
poor man would have no right to say, " I partly deserved it, 



SALVATION. 



433 



because I owned the debt ;" for he ought to have done that, 
whether he was liberated or not. Just in this manner we 
have treated God. When he comes and charges us with 
having broken his law, we deny it ; we will allow, perhaps, 
that we deserve a slight punishment, but not all which God 
has threatened. But if we are ever to be saved, God comes, 
and, as it were, shuts us up in prison ; that is, he awakens 
our consciences, and sends his Spirit to convince us of sin. 
Thus we every day see more and more of the desperate 
wickedness of our hearts, until we are ready to allow that 
we have deserved eternal condemnation. As soon as we 
acknowledge this, God is ready to pardon us ; but it is evi- 
dent that we do not thereby deserve pardon ; that he is not 
under the least obligation to bestow it ; and that all who 
are saved, are saved through free unmerited grace. 

The great sculptor Phidias was employed by the Athe- 
nians to make a statue of one of their goddesses, Diana ; 
and he succeeded so well as to produce a chef d'oeuvre. 
The artist became enamoured of his own creation of genius ; 
and anxious that his glory should go down to posterity, he 
secretly engraved his name in one of the folds of the drapery 
of this beautiful figure. The Athenians discovered it, and, 
with a zeal worthy a nobler object, they indignantly banished 
the daring mortal who had thus polluted the sanctity of the 
goddess with this earthly stain. And O with what eyes of 
flaming indignation, and utter abhorrence must the Father 
behold that self-righteous mortal who would venture to add 
the patches of his own " filthy rags" of righteousness to 
the pure, spotless, and perfect robe of Christ's righteousness ! 



gbalbatton. 

The freer the gospel, the more sanctifying is the gospel ; 
and the more it is received as a doctrine of grace, the more 
will it be felt as a doctrine according to godliness. This is 
one of the secrets of the christian life, that the more a man 

F F 



434 



SALVATION. 



holds of God as a pensioner, the greater is the payment of 
service that he renders back again. On the tenure of " Do 
this and live," a spirit of fearfulness is sure to enter ; and the 
jealousies of a legal bargain chase away all confidence from 
the intercourse between God and man ; and the creature 
striving to be square and even with his Creator, is, in fact, 
pursuing all the while his own selfishness, instead of God's 
glory. It is only when, as in the gospel, acceptance is be- 
stowed as a present, without money, and without price, that 
the security which man feels in God is placed beyond the 
reach of disturbance ; or that he can repose in him, as one 
friend reposes in another ; or that any liberal and generous 
understanding can be established between them — the one 
party rejoicing over the other to do him good — the other 
finding that the truest gladness of his heart lies in the im- 
pulse of gratitude ; by which it is awakened to the charms 
of a new moral existence. 

Some are all their days laying the foundation, and are 
never able to build upon it to any comfort to themselves, or 
usefulness to others ; and the reason is, because they will be 
mixing with the foundation stones that are only fit for the 
following building. They will bring their obedience, duties, 
mortification of sin, and the like, unto the foundation. These 
are precious stones to build with, but unmeet to be first laid, 
to bear upon them the whole weight of the building. The 
foundation is to be laid in mere grace, mercy, pardon in the 
blood of Christ. This the soul is to accept of, and to rest in, 
merely as it is grace, without the consideration of anything 
in itself but that it is obnoxious to ruin. This it finds a 
difficulty in, and would gladly have something of its own 
to mix with it. It cannot tell how to fix these foundation 
stones without some cement of its own endeavours and duty ; 
and because these things will not mix, they spend a fruitless 
labour about it all their days. But if the foundation be of 
grace, it is not at all of works ; otherwise grace is no more 
grace. If anything of our own be mixed with grace in this 
matter, it utterly destroys the nature of grace, which, if it 
be not alone, is not at all. 

Because we deny salvation by our own works, many charge 



SATAN. 



435 



us with being enemies to good works. But am I an enemy 
to a nobleman^ because I will not attribute to him those 
honours which are due only to the king ? If I say to a com- 
mon soldier in an army, you cannot lead that army against 
the enemy, will he therefore say, Then I may begone ; there 
is no need of me ? Or, if I see a man at his day labour, and 
say to him, You will never be able to purchase an estate of 
£10,000 per annum by working in that manner, will he 
therefore give oyer his work, and say he is discouraged ? 

There is a story of one that, falling asleep, dreamt that he 
was in a large field, hedged in on all sides with thunder and 
lightning, hailstorms, and the like tempestuous weather, and 
then he saw certain houses afar off, and, making towards one 
of them, craved admittance till the storm were over. What 
art thou, said the master of the house ; I am such a one, savs 
he, telling him his name ; and I, says the master, am called 
Justice; thou must not look for any comfort in me, but 
rather the contrary : at another house he was answered that 
there dwelt Truth, one that he never loved, and must there- 
fore expect no shelter there : well, he goes to the third, the 
house of Peace, and there he finds the like entertainment. 
In the midst of this distraction, he lights upon the house of 
Mercy, and there he humbly desiring entrance was made 
welcome and refreshed. This may be but a dream, imagi- 
nary ; yet the application is a real truth. Thus the poor 
man, rejected everywhere, at last finds refuge in the sign of 
the Cross. When the habitations of Justice, Truth, and 
Peace are bolted fast upon the drooping soul, then are the 
gates of mercy wide open to receive it, there being no sal- 
vation but by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus. — Spencer. 



5batan. 

Satan will seldom come to a Christian with a gross temp- 
tation : a green log and a candle may be safely left together ; 
but bring a few shavings, then some small sticks, and then 
larger, and you may oon bring the green log to ashes. 

f f 2 



436 



SATAN. 



When the saint is beset with some great affliction, 
this is as some blind or solitary lane, fit for this thief to call 
for his purse in. An expert captain first labours to make a 
breach in the wall, and then falls on in storming the city. 
Satan first got power from God to weaken Job in his estate, 
children, health, and other comforts he had, and now tempts 
him to impatience, and what not. He lets Christ fast forty 
days before he comes, and then he falls to work : as an army 
stays till a castle be pinched for provision within, and then 
sends a parley never more likely to be embraced than in 
such a strait. A temptation comes strong when the way to 
relief seems to lie through the sin that Satan is wooing to. 
When one is poor, and Satan comes — " What ! wilt thou 
starve, rather than step over the hedge, and steal for thy 
supply?" — this is enough to put flesh and blood to the 
stand. 

After great manifestation of God's love, then the tempter 
comes. Such is the weak constitution of grace, that it can 
neither well bear smiles nor frowns from God without a 
snare ; if God smile and open himself a little familiar to 
us, then we are prone to grow high and wanton ; if he 
frown, then we sink as much in our faith : thus the one, like 
fair weather and warm gleams, bring up the weeds of cor- 
ruption ; and the other, like sharp frosts, nip, and even kill 
the flowers of grace. The Christian is in danger on both 
sides. 

When he comes to tempt he is modest, and asks but little : 
he knows he may get that at many times which he should 
be denied if he asked all at once. A few are let into a city, 
when an army coming in a body would be shut out ; and, 
therefore, that he may beget no suspicion, he presents, may 
be, a few general propositions, which do not discover the 
depth of this plot ; these, like scouts, go before, while his 
whole body is hid, as it were, in some swamp at hand. 
Many have yielded to go a mile with Satan that never in- 
tended to go two ; but when once on the way have been allured 
further and further, till at last they know not how to leave 
his company. Thus Satan leads poor creatures down into 



SATAN. 



437 



the depths of sin by winding stairs, that let them not see the 
bottom whither they are going. First he presents an object 
that occasions some thoughts, these set fire on the affections, 
and these fume up into the brain and cloud the understand- 
ing, which being thus disabled, now Satan dares a little 
more declare himself, and boldly solicit the creature to that 
it would even now have defied. Many who at this day lie 
in open profaneness, never thought they should have rolled 
so far from their profession ; but Satan beguiled them, poor 
souls, with their modest beginnings. 0 Christians, give no 
place to Satan, no, not an inch, in his first motions ; he that 
is a beggar, and a modest one without doors, will command 
the house if let in : yield at first, and thou givest away thy 
strength to resist him in the rest ; when the hem is worn, 
the whole garment will ravel out, if it be not mended by 
timely repentance. 

One way wherein Satan shows his subtilty in managing 
his temptations, is in his reserve. A wise captain hath ever 
some fresh troops at hand to fall in at a finish when the 
others are worsted. Satan is seldom at a loss in this respect ; 
when one temptation is beat back, he soon hath another to 
fill up the gap, and make good the line. Thus he tempts 
Christ to diffidence and distrust by bidding him turn stones 
into bread, as if it were time now to carve for himself, being 
so long neglected of his Father as to fast forty days, and no 
supplies heard of : no sooner had Christ quenched this dart 
with that, " It is written man shall not live by bread alone, 
but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God," 
but he had another on the string tempting him to presump- 
tion : " Then the devil taketh, and sets him on a pinnacle," 
and bids, " Cast thyself down headlong, for it is written, He 
shall give his angels charge over thee," &c. : yet note we 
Satan's temptations in Christ were like the serpent's motion 
on a rock ; (of which Solomon speaks,) that makes no im- 
pression, no dent at all. Pro v. xxx. 19. But on us they are 
as a serpent on sand or dust, that leaves a print when not in 
the heart, yet in the fancy colours that which is next door 
to it, and so the object then is ready to slip in, if great care 



438 



SATAN. 



be not observed ; especially when lie doth thus change his 
hand, as, when we have resisted one way, fall on afresh 
another, yea, plant his succeeding temptation upon our very 
resistance in the former. Now it requires some readiness 
in our postures, and skill at all our weapons, to make our 
defence ; like a disputant, when he is put out of his road, and 
hath a new question started, or an argument unusual brought, 
now he is tried to purpose. And truly this is Satan's way 
when he tempts the Christian to neglect of duty in God's 
worship, (from his worldly occasions, the multitude of them, 
or necessity of following them,) and this takes not, then he 
is on the other side, and is drawing the Christian to the 
neglect of his worldly calling, out of a seeming zeal to pro- 
mote his other in the worship of God. Or first he comes 
and labours to deaden the heart in duty ; but the Christian, 
too watchful of him there, then he is puffing of him up with 
an opinion of his enlargement in it, and ever he keeps his 
slyest and most sublimated temptations for the last. 

The cameleon, when he lies on the grass to catch flies 
and grasshoppers, taketh upon him the colour of the grass ; 
as the polypus doth the colour of the rock under which he 
lurketh, that the fish may come near him boldly, without 
any suspicion of danger. In like manner, Satan turneth 
himself into that shape which we least fear, and sets before 
us such objects of temptation as are most agreeable to our 
natures, that so he may the sooner draw us into his net. 
He sails with every wind, and bows us that way which we 
incline of ourselves through the weakness of nature. Is our 
knowledge in matter of faith deficient? He tempts us to 
error. Is our conscience tender ? He tempts us to scrupu- 
losity, and too much preciseness. Hath our conscience, like 
the ecliptic line, some latitude ? He tempts us to carnal 
liberty. Are we bold spirited ? — to presumption. Are we 
timorous and distrustful? — to desperation. Are we of a 
flexible disposition? — he temptethus to inconstancy. — Stiff? 
— he labours to make obstinate heretics, schismatics, or 
rebels of us. Of an austere temper? he tempteth us to 
cruelty. Are we soft and mild ? — to indulgence and foolish 



SATAN. 



439 



pity. Are we hot in matters of religion? — he tempteth us to 
blind zeal and superstition. Cold ? — he tempteth us to Laodi- 
cean lukewarmness. Thus doth he lay his traps in our way, 
that one way or other he may ensnare us. — Spencer. 

If you observe a fowler plying his art, you will see him 
well equipped with the instruments of deception. He not 
only spreads his net, but he has his glittering pieces, his 
decoy bird and his whistle, whilst he himself is on the watch. 
The poor lark, if she come within sight and hearing, is soon 
allured with one or other of his snares, to descend and quit 
her native sky. And now entangled in his net she becomes 
the prey of the fowler. And so Satan, that arch deceiver of 
souls, has his glittering baits and deceptions. The world 
is his field, and there he spreads his temptations. He has his 
glasses to magnify the objects on which the worldling sets 
his heart, and his decoy birds to tempt others into his nets. 
Now if God had not told the believer, if his eyes were not 
open, and he had not wings to fly away, it were another mat- 
ter. But 0 fool ! when thou hast a nature which prompts 
thee to soar aloft where thy safety lies, to live so much below, 
and get thine affections entangled in Satan's nets. 

It is reported by the poets of Achilles, the Grecian cap- 
tain, that his mother being warned by the oracle, dipped 
him, being a child, in the river Lethe, to prevent any danger 
that might ensue by reason of the Trojan war ; but Paris, his 
inveterate enemy, understanding also by the oracle that he 
was impenetrable all over his body except the heel, or small 
of his leg, which his mother held by when she dipped him, 
took his advantage, shot him in the heel and killed him : 
thus every man is, or ought to be, armed with that panoplia, 
the whole armour of God, for Satan will be sure to hit the 
least part that he finds unarmed; if it be the eye, he will 
dart in at that casement by the presentation of one lewd ob- 
ject or another ; if it be the ear, he will force that door open 
by bad counsel ; if the tongue, that shall be made a world 
of mischief ; if the feet, they shall be " swift to shed blood." 
— Spencer. 



440 



SCRIPTURES. 



Scriptures. 

It is never to be supposed that the divine pattern of the 
scriptures should direct every word and every phrase by an 
extraordinary, immediate inspiration, for then it were impos- 
sible there should have been a diversity of style, but all the 
parts must have been in one and the same style. But there 
was that influx of the divine Spirit that did most certainly 
guide the writers as to all the substance of what was to be 
written and recorded by them ; which did attemper itself to 
the natural genius of those that were made use of as the 
penmen, so that the communication of the Holy Ghost, per- 
ceived by such and such men, of such and such a constitu- 
tion, temper, and genius, comes to be diversified in that man- 
ner, as if one comes to pour a quantity of water into such 
and such a particular vessel ; if the vessel be round, the 
water falls into a round figure ; if the vessel be square, the 
water is formed into that figure unavoidably. And so the 
same communication of the Holy Ghost being poured into 
such a vessel as this or that man was, comes to be accord- 
ingly diversified. That very communication to such a one 
as Isaiah, for instance, receives one sort of figure there, and 
a communication to such a one as Micah receives another 
figure there ; when yet all these communications are from 
one and the same fountain, and serve for one and the same 
common purpose. 

Though the Scriptures were dictated by the Holy Spirit, 
and hold the lamp to knowledge and happiness, how many 
cast the precious charter behind their backs, or even trample 
it under their feet ! " Though," as one expresses it, " God 
himself has vouchsafed to commence author, how few will 
so much as give his work the reading !" The renowned 
Scipio Africanus hardly ever had Xenophon's writings out 
of his hand. Alexander the Great made Homer's poems 
his constant companion. St. Chrysostom was so fond of 
Aristophanes' comedies, that he even laid them under his 
pillow when he slept. Our matchless Alfred constantly 
carried Boethius de Consol. Phil, in a fold of his robe. 



SCRIPTURES. 



441 



Tamerlane (if I rightly remember) always carried about with 
him the History of Cyrus. Bishop Jewel could recite all 
Horace, and Bishop Sanderson all Tully's Offices. The 
Italians are said to be such admirers of Tasso, that the very 
peasants sing him by heart as they pursue their country 
labours. The famous Leibnitz could repeat, even in extreme 
old age, the greatest part of Virgil ; and one of the popes is 
said to have learned English, purely for the sake of read- 
ing the Spectator in its original language. How warmly does 
Horace recommend the study of the Greek writers to the 
Roman youth ! Nocturna versate ?nanu, versate diurna. 
How, then, ought Christians to study the Book of God? 
Beza, at upwards of eighty years of age, could repeat the 
whole of St. Paul's Epistles in the original Greek, and all the 
Psalms in Hebrew ; and even more lately, the learned Wit- 
sius, at a very advanced period of life, could recite almost 
any passage of scripture in its proper Hebrew or Greek, 
together with the contexts and criticisms of the best commen- 
tators. How will such persons rise in judgment against 
the negligent professors, the many superficial divines, and 
the flimsy infidels of the present day ! Time has been, 
when the word of the Lord was precious in this land, so 
precious that in the reign of Henry VIII. an honest farmer 
once gave a cart-load of hay for one leaf of St. James's 
Epistle in English. Now, indeed, through the goodness of 
God, the manna of his word lies in abundance round our 
tents. But what is the consequence ? Most of us are for 
reading any book, except that which can make us wise to 
salvation. We disrelish even the bread of life : I almost 
said we spurn it away with our feet. Hence our spiritual 
declensions. May we not address the generality of Chris- 
tians, so called, in the words of Mr. Boston I " The dust on 
one hand, or the finery on the other, about your Bibles, is 
a witness now, and will at the last day be a witness, of the 
enmity of your hearts against Christ as a prophet." 

A certain Jew had formed a design to poison Luther, but 
was happily disappointed by a faithful friend, who sent 
Luther a picture of the man, with a warning to take heed 
of such a person when he saw him. By this Luther knew 



442 



SCRIPTURES 



the murderer, and escaped his Lands. Thus the work of 
God, 0 Christian, shows thee the face of those lusts which 
Satan employs to destroy thy comforts, and poison thy soul. 
"Hereby." saith David, "is thv servant warned.'"'' Psalm 
six. 11. 

To unconverted persons, a 2 r reat part of the Bible resembles 
a letter written in cipher. The blessed Spirit's office is. to 
act as God's decipherer, by letting his people into the secret 
of celestial experience, as the key and clue to those sweet 
mysteries of grace, which were before, as a garden shut up. 
or as a fountain sealed, or as a book written in an unknown 
character. 

Scripture can be savingly understood, only in and by the 
inward illumination of the Holy Ghost. The Gospel is a 
picture of God's free grace to sinners. Were we in a room 
hung with the finest paintings, and adorned with the most 
exquisite statues, we could not see one of them, if all light 
was excluded. Xow. the blessed Spirit's irradiation is the 
same to the mind that outward light is to the bodilv eves. 

The difference between the Holy Scriptures and other 
writings is much the same as that between the works of 
art and nature. The works of art appear to most advantage 
at first, but will not bear a nice and repeated examination : 
the more curiously we pry into them, the less we shall admire 
them. But the works of nature will bear a thousand views 
and reviews, and yet still be instructive and still wonderful. 
In like manner the writings of mere men. though never so 
excellent in their kind, yet strike and surprise us most upon 
our first perusal of them : and then flatten upon our taste 
by degrees, as our familiarity with them increases. Whereas 
the word of Revelation is. like its Author, of an endless and 
unsearchable perfection, and the more reason still shall we 
find to admire and adore the wisdom of the great Revealer 
of it. 

The celebrated John Locke has a remark to this effect : 
the understanding, like the eye. while it discovers all other 
things, does not see itself ; and it requires art and pains to 
set it at a distance, and make it become its own object. By 
looking, however, into a mirror, the curious and useful eye 



SCRIPTURES. 



443 



is represented to itself; and by attentively gazing at the 
word of God, the mind may become acquainted with its own 
character, and behold its true portrait. And as the true use 
of a mirror is to represent those parts which cannot other- 
wise be seen, and to enable a person to correct and adj ust 
whatever may require correction or adjustment ; just so the 
word of God is intended to expose us to ourselves, and to 
enable us to make those improvements which are necessary. 
With too many, alas ! the discoveries which this word makes 
are unattended to, and all its impressions forgotten. With 
others, however, the views it affords, and the directions it 
bestows, are carefully preserved and diligently followed. 

When a man is drawing water out of a well (it is 
Epiphanus' observation) with two vessels of a different 
metal, the water at first seemeth to be of a different co- 
lour ; but when he draweth up the vessels nearer to 
him, the diversity of colours vanish, and the water appear- 
eth to be one and the same colour ; and when he tasteth 
them, they have one and the same relish. Thus, although 
at the first sight there may seem to be some contradictions 
in the Scriptures, yet when we look nearer and nearer into 
them, and compare one place with another, we shall find no 
contrariety in them, no repugnancy at all, but a perfect 
harmony and full consent of one place with another. As 
the faith of the patriarchs relating to the promises made to 
Abraham before the law; the prophets grounding themselves 
upon Moses under the law ; and the faith of the church rely- 
ing upon the doctrine of the apostles under the Gospel, all 
of them agreeing in one — nothing at all contradictory. — 
Spencer. 

It is reported of a great person, that being desirous to see 
the sword wherewith Scanderbeg had done so oreat ex- 
ploits, when he saw it, replied, " he saw no such great mat- 
ter in the sword more than any other sword." " It is truth, 
(quoth one standing by,) you see the sword, but not the arm 
that wieldeth it." So, when we look upon the Scriptures, the 
bare word, whether printed in our Bibles, or audible in the 
pulpit, we shall find no such business in it more than in 



444 



SCRIPTURES. 



other writings ; but when we consider the arm of God's power, 
that joins with it, when we look upon the operation of his 
holy Spirit working therein, then we shall change our 
thoughts, and say as Jacob did of Bethel, " Surely, of a 
certain, God is in this word." — Ibid. 

There is no study which so fully repays the student. Like 
one who, having been famished with the husks and berries 
of a wilderness, is strengthened and invigorated by healthy 
and nutritious food — such is the bread of life to one who 
has hitherto kept aloof from it. How doth it quicken and 
deepen his faculties, cheer his despondency, confirm his irre- 
solution, assuage his fretfulness, disperse his perplexity, 
and relieve the toils and infirmities of life ! What a healthy 
freshness of mind is infused by the regenerating influence of 
the Gospel ! The mind, set to work by so pure a spirit, rises 
aloft, and drops at every rise some fettering incumbrance, while 
it straightway pursues its object, as the dove let loose into 
the sky immediately plunges towards the quarter of its 
home. 

The hearts of believers are carried out to desire the word 
of communion with God from instinct, and not from any 
outward inducement. The cause of the natural appetite is 
not persuasion and discourse, but inclination ; not argument, 
but nature. Appetite is an effect of life. As new-born babes 
desire the milk, not by instruction but instinct, without a 
teacher ; as all creatures desire to preserve that life which 
they have, and therefore run by a natural propension to the 
teats of their dams ; as trees that receive life from the 
earth and sun stretch out their branches to receive the sun, 
and strike deep their roots into the earth which brought 
them forth; and as the chicken is no sooner out of the shell, 
but it shrouds itself under the feathers of the hen ; and the 
little lamb runs to its dam though there may be a thousand 
sheep of the same wool and colour, as if it said, here I re- 
ceived what I have, and here I'll seek what I want — so by 
such a native, inbred desire do the saints run to God's word, 
and seek a supply of strength and nourishment ; and the 
desire is very strong and vehement — " One thing have I 
desired of the Lord, that will I seek after," &c. What is the 



SCRIPTURES. 



445 



reason of this ? You may as well ask what teacheth the 
young lambs to suck, and what teacheth the chicken to run 
under the wing of the hen, as who taught the regenerate to 
long for the word. It is the instinct of a spiritual nature. 
And it shows that all who do not " desire the sincere milk of 
the word," and have no such kindly appetite for the ordi- 
nances, who can relish nothing but meats and drinks, busi- 
ness, wealth, vanities — they were never acquainted with the 
new nature. 

As many locks, whose wards differ, are opened with equal 
care by one master-key, so there is a certain comprehen- 
sive view of scriptural truth which opens hard places, solves 
objections, and happily reconciles, illustrates, and harmo- 
nises many texts, which to those who have not this master- 
key, frequently styled " the analogy of faith," appear little 
less than contradictory to each other. When we obtain this 
key, we shall be sure to obtain the right sense. — Leifchild. 

The waters of the sanctuary (Ezek. xlvii.) flowed from 
the temple, and formed a river that none could ford. There 
are in the Scriptures those gentle streams in which we may 
walk with delight ; there are others which are deep waters 
for purification, and for sanctification ; but there are also 
others too deep for the most exalted understanding, being 
far beyond the reach of human comprehension. 

The Mahommedans write on the cover of the Koran, 
" Let no unclean person touch it." How much more respect 
should we have to the Bible, the true word of God ! 

The Scriptures are ever fresh. Each time the dew of 
heaven descends upon the same soil, it imparts to it a new 
freshness and fertility. So undiscovered beauties spring up 
at every fresh reading of the word of God, which arrest 
attention and command the deepest interest. The Scriptures, 
like the ocean, remain essentially the same, while the light 
never plays upon its surface without varying its hues ; but 
the dull mind of man loves earth too well to contemplate its 
beauties in that spirit of enjoyment which imparts to the 
bosom of a believer such pure and rapturous delight. 

Our sentence is already passed by the law. " The word 



446 



SCRIPTURES. 



that I have spoken, the same shall judge you in the last 
day." A man that is to be examined and tried for life and 
death, would fain know how it would speed with him, and how 
matters shall be carried beforehand. God will not deal with 
you by way of surprise ; he hath plainly told you according 
to what rule he will proceed. The sentence on our state, 
be it a good or evil one, is already passed. See John iii. 18. 
Rom. viii. 1. 

A single prohibition is so planted by God in the Scriptures, 
that, like a piece of ordnance, it may be said to enfilate 
and sweep a whole territory of sin ; nothing can come with- 
in its range without challenging its thunder, and courting 
death. A single rule is said to contain laws for an indefinite 
number of actions ; for all the possible cases of the class 
described which can ever occur. Like the few imaginary 
circles by which geography circumscribes the earth, he has 
by a few sentences described, and distributed into sections 
the whole globe of duty ; so that wherever we may be on it, 
we find ourselves encompassed by some comprehensive max- 
ims; and in whatever direction we may move, we have only 
to reflect, in order to perceive that we are receding from, or 
approaching to, some line of morality. — Harris. 

Where men are unskilful in the word, particular difficul- 
ties, either entangle them, and fill them with perplexi- 
ties, so that they know not what to do, but are like the 
traveller who knows not what path to take ; or else, like un- 
disciplined soldiers, they violently and presumptuously 
break through them to the wounding of their consciences, 
and the hardening of their spirits against a sense of sin. 

Hypocrites may delight in the speculation, but a child of 
God is delighted in the obedience and in conformity to his 
word. " I have rejoiced in the way of his testimonies as 
much as in all riches," not only in the testimonies themselves 
— in the naked contemplation of these blessed truths, 
but in the way and practice of these things. He that 
loves his rule will study an exact conformity thereto. The 
love of a child of God to the word differs from that of a 
temporary believer in this way. A mere beholder of a rare 
piece of painting may be greatly pleased with it, and if he 



SCRIPTURES. 



447 



has a taste for the arts, his pleasure and satisfaction will be 
sensibly increased. But this is nothing to the enjoyment 
which an artist will find in it. What is it to the zest and 
delight which he takes in imitating, and copying it out, in 
expressing it, when he can by his own pencil copy it out to 
the life ? So while the one contents himself with barren 
admiration and naked praise and acknowledgment, the 
true believer finds his delight when he can copy out the 
word of God, and transcribe it as the moral image of his 
God into his heart. 

The sacred writers have this peculiarity, that they propor- 
tion and accommodate themselves to the wants of every one ; 
a lamb may ford them, without fear, to quench his thirst ; 
and an elephant may swim there, and find no bottom to 
their depths. 

You have only to think what a change would pass on the 
aspect of our race, if the Bible were suddenly withdrawn, 
and all remembrance of it swept away, and you arrive at 
some faint notion of the worth of this volume. Take from 
Christendom the Bible, and you have taken the moral chart 
by which alone its population can be guided. Ignorant of 
the nature of God, and only guessing at their own immor- 
tality, the tens of thousands would be as mariners tossed on 
a wide ocean, without a pole-star, and without a compass. 
The blue lights of the storm fiend would burn ever in the 
shrouds ; and when the tornado of death rushed across the 
waters, there would be heard nothing but the shriek of the 
terrified, and the groan of the despairing. It were to mantle 
the earth with more than Egyptian darkness ; it were to dry 
up the fountains of human happiness ; it were to take the 
tide from the waters, and leave them stagnant ; and the stars 
from our heavens, and leave them in sackcloth ; and the ver- 
dure from our valleys, and leave them in barrenness ; it were 
to make the present all recklessness, and the future all hope- 
lessness ; the maniac's revelry, and then the fiend's imprison- 
ment, — if you could annihilate that precious volume which 
tells of God and of Christ, and unveils immortality, and in- 



448 



SCRIPTURES. 



structs to duty, and woos to glory. Such is the Bible. Prize 
ye it, and study it more and more. 

Surely, if men had the spirit of the apostle, or of those 
blessed angels which desire to pry into the gospel of Christ, 
they would not mispend so much precious time in petty and 
fruitless studies, nor waste away that lamp of reason in their 
bosom in empty and unnourishing blazes ; but would set 
more hours apart to look into the patent of their salvation, 
(which is the book of God,) and to acquaint themselves with 
Christ beforehand, that when they come into hispresence,they 
might have the entertainment of friends, and not of strangers. 
Men that intend to travel into foreign kingdoms with any 
advantage to their parts, or improvement of their experi- 
ence, do, beforehand, season and prepare themselves with 
the language, with some topographical observations of the 
country, with some general notions of the manners, forms, 
civilities, governments of the natives there ; do delight to 
converse with those men who are best learned in these or 
like particulars. Surely, we all profess a journey to heaven, 
a pilgrimage in this present world, to have our conversation 
now, where we look to have our everlasting abode with the 
Lord hereafter. Now in the gospel of Christ we have, as it 
were, a map, a topographical delineation of those glorious 
mansions which are there prepared for the church ; we have 
some rudiments of the heavenly language ; in one word, we 
have abundantly enough, not only to prepare us for it, but 
to inflame all the desires of our soul unto it, even as exiles 
and captives desire to return to their native country. Now, 
then, if we no way regard to study it, or acquaint our- 
selves with it ; if we seem to desire the sight of Christ in 
heaven, — and when we may, every day, have a blessed view 
of his face in the glass of his Gospel, we turn away our eyes 
and regard it not ; we do as good as proclaim to all the 
world, that either our hopes of heaven are very slender, or 
our care thereof little or none at all. 

Scripture truths, when they do not enrich the memory, yet 
they may purify the heart. We must not measure the be- 
nefit we receive from the word according to what of it 



SCRIPTURES. 



449 



remains, but according to what effect it leaves behind. 
Lightning, you know, than which nothing sooner vanishes 
away, yet it often melts and breaks the hardest and most 
firm bodies in its sudden passage. Such is the irresistible 
force of the word ; the Spirit often darts it through us ; it 
seems but like a flash and gone, and yet it may melt and 
break down our hard hearts before it, when it leaves little 
impression upon our memories. 

Too much reading, and too little meditation, may produce 
the effect of a lamp inverted, which is extinguished by the 
very excess of that aliment whose property it is to feed it. 
— The Portfolio. 

Though man has reason, and is capable of understanding 
the sense and importance of the words that describe the myste- 
ries of godliness, yea, and the matter too, yet he gets not the 
savoury knowledge of them by his natural abilities. There 
is a grammatical knowledge, and a spiritual knowledge ; 
a man may know things grammatically and literally, that 
is ignorant of them spiritually; as a child may read the 
lessons and words, yet does not conceive the sense of the 
passage. So a man may know what is written concerning 
God and Christ, and sin and grace, the vanity of the crea- 
ture, and the blessedness of holiness, and have no saving 
knowledge of these things. Let a man and a child look 
upon the face of a watch. Both may be equally able to 
read the numbers of the figures exposed on the dial-plate, 
and see the movement of the minute and second hands ; 
but there is a further knowledge which is comprehended in 
these things, and to be gathered from inspection. The pre- 
cise hour of the day may be read by the one who is in- 
structed to understand the construction of the various parts 
of the watch, and the object of their adjustment — but the 
child regards only the figures of the hands without any asso- 
ciation of ideas. It is so with the spiritual and the natural 
man, engaged on the word of God. To the one it is the 
hidden wisdom of God made known in a mystery— to the 
other, it is written, " hearing they shall hear and shall not. 
understand, seeing they shall see and not perceive." 

G G 



450 



SELF. 



The Bible resembles an extensive and highly cultivated 
garden, where there is vast variety and profusion of fruits 
and flowers ; some of which are more essential, or more 
splendid than others ; but there is not an herb suffered to 
grow in it which has not its use and beauty in the system. 



Self. 

There is a strong resemblance between a pert, overbearing, 
conceited opinionist, and a drunken man. You may see 
him reeling to and fro ; now entertaining this odd conceit, 
to-morrow that, and the next day a third ; unstable in all. 
Vomiting too, and casting out scornful reproaches against 
such as differ from him. Talkative as drunkards commonly 
are ; prating, and obtruding his own opinions on every 
body. Self-sufficient, and boasting himself and his party 
as too hard for all their opposers. Thus, as our proverb 
saith, "one drunkard is forty men strong." Whoever 
attempts to reason with such a dogmatist, will soon find him 
as incapable of conviction as INabal was of Abigail's narra- 
tion, until his wine was gone out of him. — Spencer. 

How pleasant, when we have learned to forsake and 
abandon ourselves, when we are not apt to magnify and 
applaud, to trust or love, to seek and serve ourselves un- 
duly ; when that idol, self, is no longer maintained within us 
at the dear expense of our peace, comfort, safety, and eternal 
hope ; an idol that engrossed the whole substance of our 
souls, that exhausted and devoured the strength and vigour 
of our spirits, which it doth not maintain, and cannot repair ; 
which consumes our time, which keeps all our powers and 
faculties in a continual exercise and hurry, to make a costly, 
a vain, an unlawful provision for it ! How great is the ease 
and pleasure which we feel in being delivered from that soul- 
wasting monster, that was fed and sustained at a dearer rate, 
and with more costly sacrifices and repasts than can be 



SELF. 



451 



paralleled by either sacred or other history ; that hath made 
more desolation in the souls of man than ever was made in 
their towns and cities, where idols were served by only 
human sacrifices, or monstrous creatures satiated with such 
refections; or where the lives and safety of the most were 
to be bought out by the constant successive tribute of the 
blood of not a few ; — that hath devoured more, and preyed 
more cruelly upon human lives, than Moloch or the Mino- 
taur ! When this monstrous idol is destroyed and trodden 
down, what a jubilee doth it make, what songs of triumph 
and praise doth it furnish and supply to the poor soul, now 
delivered and redeemed from death and bondage ! 

Every person has some object which he loves supremely ; 
and in every unrenewed man that object is self. Suppose, 
for illustration, that you have an image, which is in reality 
extremely ugly, but which you think beautiful, and you 
spend all your time in polishing and adorning it. Notwith- 
standing all your efforts, it grows more and more ugly, till 
at last, in depair of amending it yourself, you pray that God 
would make it more lovely. It is evident in this case that 
your prayers would not proceed from love to God, but from 
love to your idol ; and therefore there would be no good- 
ness in them. Suppose that during all this time a person 
was entreating you to look at a beautiful, diamond statue, 
which you refused to do, until wearied with useless efforts to 
make your image appear /more beautiful, you turn and look 
at the statue. Immediately you see your idol in all its 
native deformity, you cast it aside, and begin to admire and 
extol the statue. This idol represents self ; and every un- 
renewed person admires and loves it supremely. When 
his conscience is awakened to see something of his sinful- 
ness, he first endeavours to make himself better, and it is 
long before he finds that he cannot change his own heart. 
When he finds that, notwithstanding all his endeavours, his 
heart seems to grow worse and worse, he prays to God for 
help. It is not from love to God, because God has com- 
manded it that he prays; but because he is unwilling to 
see himself so sinful ; so that his prayers merely arise from 
pride and selfishness. But if he will only turn, and look to 

g g 2 



452 



SINCERITY. 



Christ, he sees his sin in a new light, and no longer loves 
himself supremely ; all his affections are transferred to 
Christ. He then prays to be made better, not to gratify his 
pride, bat because he sees something of the beauty of holi- 
ness, and longs to resemble his divine Master. 



Jbtnxeritj). 

An attention to one part will not prove our sincerity. 
It is an ancient song, you must keep minim time, or else 
you will put the whole choir out of tune, so look that you 
sing the new song of the Lord with trembling and accurate 
observation — miss neither cliff nor note, neither sound doc- 
trine nor pious practice. Christ and his truth will not 
divide ; and his truth hath not latitude and breadth, that ye 
may take some of it, and leave some of it ; nay, the gospel 
is like a small hair that hath no breadth, and will not cleave 
in two; it is not possible to twist and compound a matter 
betwixt Christ and Antichrist ; and therefore, ye must either 
be for Christ, or ye must be against him. You must give 
him an absolute obedience, or it is just nothing. 

If a person was to attend the levee of an earthly prince every 
court-day, and pay his obeisance punctually and respectfully, 
but at other times speak and act in opposition to his sove- 
reign, the king would justly deem such a one an hypocrite 
and an enemy. Nor will a solemn and stated attendance 
on the means of grace in the house of God prove us to be 
God's children and friends, — if we confine our religion to 
the church walls, and do not devote our lips and lives to the 
glory of that Saviour we profess to love. 

Hast thou but one love how thou mayest love Christ, and 
be beloved of him ? If the streams of thy affections be thus, 
by the mighty power of God renewing thee, gathered into 
this one channel, and with a sweet violence run this way, 
then blessed art thou of the Lord ; thou art the sincere soul 
in his account, though much corruption be found in thee 
still, that is soiling thy stream, and endeavouring to stop 
the free course of thy soul Godwards. This may put thee 



SPIRITUALITY. 



453 



to some trouble, as the mountains and rocks do the river- 
water running* to the sea, causing some windings and turn- 
ings in its course, which else would go the nearest way, 
even in a direct line to it ; so thy remaining corruptions may 
now and then put thee out of the way of obedience; but 
sincerity will like the water on its journey for all this, and 
never leave till it bring thee, though with some compass, to 
thy God, whom thou hast so imprinted in thy heart, as he 
can never be forgotten by thee. 

The girdle is used as an ornament put on uppermost, to 
cover the joints of the armour which would, if seen, cause 
some uncomeliness. Hence, (at the loins I mean,) those 
pieces of armour for the defence of the lower parts of the 
body are fastened to the upper : now because they cannot 
be so closely knit and clasped, but there will be some little 
gaping between piece and piece, therefore they need to put 
over these parts a broad girdle that covered all the uncome- 
liness. Now sincerity doth the same for the Christian what 
the girdle doth for the soldier. The saint's graces are not so 
close, nor his life so exact, but in the best there are found in- 
firmities and defects, and clefts in his armour ; but sincerity 
covers them all, that he is not exposed to danger by them. 



gbptrttualttg. 

We know that animal life and activity depend altogether 
on a communication of vital air, but we are not equally 
conscious that spiritual life in its existence, and all its act- 
ings, depends on our communication with the Spirit of God, 
by whose influence the regenerate spirit lives, and moves, 
and has its being. 

A child can have no co-operation in its own conception, 
but when born into the world it becomes instinctively ' and 
actively employed in promoting its own growth. It affects 
maturity. Thus is it with the new-born soul ; Ps. xvii. 15 ; 
Phil. iii. 12 — 14. It presses onwards for an increasing spi- 
rituality. 



454 



SPIRITUALITY. 



Mr. Owen says, if a man of a carnal mind is brought into 
a large company, he will have much to do ; if into a com- 
pany of Christians, he will feel little interest ; if into a 
smaller company engaged in religious exercises, he will feel 
still less ; but if taken into a closet and forced to meditate 
on God and eternity, this will be insupportable. 

A religion, indeed, that shall be of my own forming and 
contrivance, I can easily make myself accord to ; but why 
should I ever hope that this should serve my turn, or do the 
work ? or why should I think, against plain experience and 
my Bible, that the most excellent part of religion should be 
within the compass of my own power to effect and produce ? 
Let us think how it is with us in other cases. It is, you 
know, within the compass of human power to shape a statue, 
or paint in colours the picture of a man ; but when the 
artist has done all this, can he infuse a soul into the statue, 
or make that picture fit to reason and discourse ? No ; 
when he has done his utmost, it will be only a mere piece 
of ingenious contrivance, that looks specious to the eye, but 
has in itself nothing of sense, life, or motion ; can do nothing 
like what it imitates, for still something within will be ne- 
cessary. So, in like manner, I can externally shape myself 
like a Christian ; but can I infuse the divine life into this 
external form ? can I make myself to live, choose and de- 
light, love and joy in God as a Christian? 

If a plot of ground should be laid out for a garden, square 
it never so accurately, let it have never so exact a figure, 
bestow upon it everything of ornament that art can invent, 
yet if nature also do not do its part, if the sun never shine 
upon it, if no showers or dews ever descend, would it be, 
think you, a pleasant flourishing garden? We have all of 
us reason to have done expecting much from lifeless outward 
forms ; even the best constitution imaginable, while a spirit 
of life from above breathes not, despair that that will ever 
work miracles, or do any great things amongst us. 

The very difference between a carnal and a spiritual life 
is this. The carnal man doth see only the carcass of the 
world, and is blind to God, and seeth not him, when lie 
seeth that which is animated by him. But the spiritual 



SPIRITUALITY, 



455 



man seeth God in and by the creature, and the creature is 
nothing; to hiuibut in God. As an illiterate man doth look 
upon a book, and seeth only the letters, and taketh pleasure 
in their shape and order, and falls a playing- with it as chil- 
dren do ; but he seeth not, nor understands the sense ; and 
therefore if it contained the most noble mysteries of the 
greatest promises, even such as his life did depend upon, he 
loveth it not in any such respect: nor doth he for that 
delight in it. But let a learned man have a perusing of the 
same book, and though he may commend the clearness of 
the character, yet it is the sense that he principally obser- 
veth, and the sense that he loveth, and the sense that he 
delighteth in ; and therefore, as the sense is incomparably 
more excellent than the character simply considered, so it 
is a higher and more excellent kind of knowledge and de- 
light which he hath in the book, than that which the illite- 
rate hath. And therefore, as the illiterate cannot see the 
sense of words and letters, the wood for trees, so the literate 
can see no such thing as words without sense, nor would 
regard the materials but for this signifying use. 

A spiritual man is like an instrument in tune, which 
needs only to be touched to send forth most sweet music ; 
but a carnal man is like one that needs a great deal of pre- 
paration to set it a going*. So an organ, or any other wind 
instrument, maketh no music till there be breath put into 
it ; but a stringed instrument, as the lute or viol, yieldeth a 
pleasant sound even with the touch of a finger : and thus a 
carnal man that is dead in sin and trespasses, must have a 
new life breathed into him by the blessed Spirit of God, 
before he be able to set forth the praises of his Maker ; 
whereas one that is spiritualised, one that is furnished with 
the graces of the Spirit doth good, and receiveth good, upon 
the least touch of the Spirit ; is a trumpet of God's glory upon 
the least occasion that can possibly be offered. — Spencer. 

The disappointment a godly, sincere person meets with 
from any other quarter than his religion, when grace is in 
exercise, troubles him no more than it would a merchant 
who speeds in the main end of his voyage to the Indies, and 
returns richly laden with the prize of silver and gold which 



456 



SPIRITUALITY. 



he went for, but only lost some trifling article in the voyage. 
As the master's eye directs the hand, if the servant can do 
his business to his master's mind, he has his wish, though 
strangers who come into the shop like it not. Thus godly 
sincerity acquiesces in his Lord's judgment of him. Such 
a one shoots not at small nor great, studies not to accom- 
modate himself to any, to hit the humour of rich or poor, 
but singles out God in his thoughts from all other ; as the 
chief object of his fear, love, faith, joy, &c, he directs all his 
endeavours like a wise archer at this white, and when he 
can most approve himself to God, he counts he shoots best. 
Hear holy Paul speaking not only in his own private 
thoughts, but the common sense of all sincere believers, 
2 Cor. v. 9, " We labour, whether present or absent, that 
we may be accepted of him." 

If upon inquiry thou flndest that thy armour decays 
rather for want of scouring, than by any blow from sin pre- 
sumptuously committed, as that is most common and ordinary, 
rust will soon spoil the best armour, and negligence gives 
grace its bane, as well as gross sins, then apply thyself to 
the use of those means which God hath appointed for the 
strengthening grace : if the fire goes out by taking off the 
wood, what may preserve it but by la}dng it on again ? 
David tells us where he renewed his spiritual life, and got 
his soul so often in a heavenly heat ; when grace in him 
began to chill : " Thy word (he says) quickeneth me." 

Among the wonders which science has achieved, it has 
succeeded in bringing things which are invisible, and im- 
palpable to our senses, within the reach of our most accurate 
observations. Thus the barometer makes us acquainted 
w r ith the actual state of the atmosphere. It takes cognizance 
of the slightest variation, and every change is pointed out 
by its elevation or depression, so that we are accurately ac- 
quainted with the actual state of the air, and at any given time. 
In like manner the Christian has within him an index by 
which he may take cognizance, and by which he may measure 
the elevation and degrees of his spirituality — it is the spirit 
of inward devotion. However difficult it may seem to be 
to pronounce on the invisibilities of our spirituality, yet 



SPIRITUALITY. 



457 



there is a barometer to determine the elevation or depres- 
sion of the spiritual principle. It marks the changes of the 
soul in its aspect towards God. As the spirit of prayer 
mounts up, there is true spiritual elevation, and as it is re- 
strained, and falls low, there is a depression of the spiritual 
principle within us. As is the spirit of devotion and com- 
munion with God, such is the man. 

Christ's church is " fair as the moon, and clear as the 
san." The sun is perfectly luminous, but the moon is but 
half enlightened ; so the believer is perfectly justified, but 
sanctified only in part. His one-half, his flesh, is dark ; and 
as the partial illumination is the reason of so many changes 
in the moon, to the which the sun is not subject at all; so 
the imperfection of a Christian's holiness is the cause of so 
many waxings and wanings, and of the great inequality in 
his performances; whereas, in the mean while, his justifi- 
cation remains constantly like itself. This is imparted: 
that is inherent. 

Think how precious and excellent a life is to be main- 
tained in man ; that spiritual divine life, a thing which doth 
require and justify their utmost care, requires it; for what 
would a person think of it, if he should be intrusted with 
the life of a prince, the child of a great monarch ? If any 
of us had such a charge committed to us-—" I charge you 
with the life of this child, and to use your best care, and 
endeavour for the nourishment of its life, and for the culti- 
vating of it, and fitting it to the best purposes whereof it 
may be capable." How would this engage one's utmost 
diligence, — that it is a very important life committed to my 
care. We have every one of us this care incumbent upon 
us of the life of a divine thing produced and brought forth 
in us, and which we are to apply the name, first, to, when 
we call ourselves the sons or children of God. There the 
name falls first : it is that divine thing that is his Son, and 
we are only his sons, or children, on account of that. To 
have a divine life, to maintain and cherish in my soul, as I 
may have a subordinate agency under the Spirit in order 
thereto, how should it engage my utmost solicitude and care, 
that nothing be done offensive to this life, that everything be 



458 



SPIRITUALITY. 



done that may tend to preserve, and improve its spiri- 
tuality ! 

Some indulge in melancholy reflections of a past and 
better state than they enjoy now. They laud the golden 
days of their espousals, the blessedness which they knew 
when first they " tasted that the Lord was gracious ;" and 
thus they stand like superannuated old men, who have left 
the fairest periods of their life behind them, and having no 
definite hopes for the future, only begin occasionally to 
warm a little when the past presents itself to their minds, 
and sends some sunny rays into their present wintry ex- 
istence. How different St. Paul ! he saw the fairest days 
of his spiritual life before him, not lying behind him; all 
the past was but a foretaste of a more elevated spirituality. 

Where there is life, real, spiritual life, there is also pro- 
gress in that life. A plant which makes no shoots or 
growth, is dead or sickly. Even the tree which has reached 
its full height does not remain as it is, but constantly renews 
and varies its outward appearance. Thus it is with the 
kingdom of nature, and so it is with the kingdom of grace. 
" Be ye therefore renewed in the spirit of your minds." 
" Though our outward man perish, yet our inward man is 
renewed day by day." 

In the very nature of things a carnal mind is death, and 
a spiritual mind life. The spiritually minded man is repre- 
sented as " alive unto God." This is a frequent method in 
Scripture of representing the case, and a just and proper 
one, for as the bent is to spiritual things, so far the soul is 
alive in the truest and noblest sense. Life capacitates for 
action and enjoyment, death disables for both. What is the 
life of the body, but a capacity to exercise the powers and 
functions which belong to it? We esteem human life in 
this world most perfect in that period which we call the 
state of manhood, in opposition to infancy and childhood on 
the one hand, and to enfeebled age on the other ; because at 
maturity it is more capable of the actions becoming the 
reasonable capacities than in tender years, and more fit to 
enjoy the delights and satisfactions which are suitable to 
our nature, than in the decline of life, when indeed we 



SPIRIT HOLY. 



459 



rather sigh and groan, than live. What then is the life 
of the soul, but, asjn the case of the body, a capacity to 
exercise the powers and functions which belong to it ? But 
the spiritual mind can alone enable the soul for the proper 
acts of a spiritual life. Hence it is " life," wdiile the carnal 
mind is " death,'' because it is opposite to, and incapacitates 
the soul for action. And that is the more perfect life of the 
soul which is suited for the most exalted actings and enjoy- 
ments, when the spiritual mind rising out of weakness is 
most active and vigorous in its service of God. 



If the husbandman is attentive to the vicissitudes of wea- 
ther, and the face of the sky, that he might be prepared to 
take the full benefit of every gleam of sunshine, and every 
falling shower — how much more alert and attentive should 
we be in watching for those influences from above, which 
are necessary to ripen and mature a more precious crop ! 
As the natural consequence of being long under the gui- 
dance of another is a quick perception of his meaning, so 
that we can anticipate his wishes, something of this ready 
discernment, accompanied with instant compliance, may 
reasonably be expected from those who profess to be habi- 
tually led by the Spirit. 

When the rays of the sun fall on the surface of a material 
object, part of those rays are absorbed ; part of them are re- 
flected back, in straight lines ; and part of them refracted this 
way and that, in various directions. W T hen the Holy Ghost 
shines upon our souls, part of the grace he inspires is ab- 
sorbed to our own particular comfort ; part of it reflected 
back in acts of love, and joy, and prayer, and praise ; and 
part of it refracted every way, in acts of benevolence, bene- 
ficence, and all moral and social duty. 

The word of God will not avail to salvation without the 
Spirit of God. A compass is of no use to a mariner, unless 
he has light to see it by. 



460 



SPIRIT HOLY. 



An house uninhabited soon comes to ruin ; and a soul 
uninhabited by the Holy Spirit of God, verges faster and 
faster to destruction. 

It is not like the Spirit will advance to the filling of the 
soul with his presence, so long as lust remains in heart and 
strength in men ; for this is to be remembered, that though 
there be a contrariety in all the lusts of the flesh unto the 
Spirit, yet all kinds or degrees of these Listings are not so, 
or upon such terms, repugnant and contrary to the Spirit, 
and his growth in men, but that this may proceed and go 
forward, some of them notwithstanding. For as it is in the 
comings in of the tide, and flo wings of the waters, whilst the 
waters are increasing, and the banks filling, there are some 
smaller refluxes or fallings back of the water, which are 
presently recovered, and this with advantage, by the next 
reflux and bearing up of the tide, so that the tide holdeth on 
its way, maketh good its course, until it cometh to its height 
and fulness, these lesser refluxes notwithstanding : in like 
manner, though there be at times some lesser yieldings and 
givings back of the Spirit in the soul, meeting with the 
current or stream of the flesh, yet he may be brought in 
again, toties quoties, and that with power, to the overbearing 
and breaking the motions and current of the flesh, and so 
keep still upon the advance, and be filling of his channels 
and banks daily. 

You know, that great inundations, as they gradually 
spread in circuit, so they increase and grow more copious 
by a continued accession of new rivulets and springs to them 
wherever they spread ; so it is in such a work as this of the 
Spirit of God. That Almighty Spirit, the further it goes, 
the more it engages and takes in the concurrence of the 
spirits of men, as so many rivulets into the great and com- 
mon inundation. For the expression of " pouring forth the 
Spirit" seems to favour that metaphor, and to look towards 
it ; as the communications of the Spirit are frequently in 
Scripture spoken of under the same metaphor of " streams 
of water," " rivers of water." So it is also in a common 
conflagration, — the workings of the Spirit are represented by 



SPIRIT HOLY. 



461 



both these elements — the further the fire spreads, still the 
more matter it meets with, the more combustible matter, 
and, that way, still more and more increases itself, even in- 
tensively, according as it spreads more extensively, because 
it still meets with more fuel to feed upon. We might thus 
render this business very easy and familiar to our own 
thoughts, by considering such a communication of the Spirit, 
once begun and set on foot, doth spread and propagate itself, 
even in an ordinary and easy way and method, further and 
further. 

The operation of the Spirit doth very much imitate that 
of nature ; it is in a very still and silent way that the sap is 
drained in by the root, and ascends up the trunk of the tree, 
and diffuses itself to every branch, so that we may see that 
it lives, but we do not see how. The case is with souls that 
are brought to live in the Spirit, as with very infirm and 
languishing persons who have been consumed, and even 
next to death, in a putrid and corrupt air ; being removed 
into such as is pure and wholesome they revive, but in a 
very insensible way ; so is this life preserved by a vital, 
spiritual influence, which is a pure air to them, a gentle, 
indulgent, benign, and cherishing air ; they live by it, and 
never a whit the worse because it is not so turbulent as to 
make a noise. 

There may be a continual motion that is not progressive, 
like that of a door which continually moves on its hinges, 
yet never removes from its place ; but walking in the Spirit 
imports a progressive motion in a course of spirituality. 
When persons make still nearer and nearer approaches 
unto their end, the term of their course ; draw nearer and 
nearer to God ; and, as they draw nearer to him, find a 
gradual influence of divine light, and life, and power; 
more discernible impressions of the Divine image ; grow 
more and more into suitableness to him ; are more acquaint- 
ed with him, are brought into higher delectations, and to 
take more complacency in him ; this is walking in the Spirit ; 
when a man's path, as it is said concerning the righteous 
man, is as the shining light, that shines more and more, 
brighter and brighter, unto the perfect day. Prov. iv. 18. 



462 



SPIRIT HOLY. 



As you know, the nearer approach we make unto the light 
of a glorious lucid object the more light we have, still, all 
along as we go, our way grows more and more lightsome. 
They do not walk in the Spirit, therefore, who keep moving 
but move in a circle, or in a round of empty, sapless duties, 
who keep up the formalities of religion, and no more ; but 
they walk in the Spirit who make a progress, who go for- 
ward, who draw nearer and nearer unto God, and become 
more suitable to, and like him, and fit for his eternal con- 
verse, and for all the present service wherein he calls them. 

The word of God is called the sword of the Spirit. It is 
the instrument by which the Spirit worketli. He does not 
tell us anything that is out of the record ; but all that is 
within it he sends home with clearness and effect upon the 
mind. He does not make us wise above that which is 
written, but he makes us wise up to that which is written. 
When a telescope is directed to some distant landscape, it 
enables us to see what we could not otherwise have seen ; 
but it does not enable us to see anything which has not a 
real existence in the prospect before us. It does not present 
to the eye any delusive imagery — neither is that a fanciful 
and fictitious scene which it throws open to our contempla- 
tion. The natural eye saw nothing but blue land stretching 
along the distant horizon. By the aid of the glass there 
bursts upon it a charming variety of fields, and woods, and 
spires, and villages. Yet who would say that the glass 
added one feature to this assemblage ? It discovers nothing 
to us which is not there ; nor out of that portion of the book 
of nature, which we are employed in cultivating, does it 
bring into view a single character which is not really and 
previously inscribed upon it. And so of the Spirit. He does 
not add a single truth or a single character to the book of 
revelation. He enables the spiritual man to see what the 
natural man cannot see ; but the spectacle which he lays 
open is uniform and immutable. It is the word of God 
which is ever the same ; and he whom the Spirit of God has 
enabled to look to the Bible with a clear and affecting dis- 
cernment, sees no phantom passing before him ; but, amid 
all the visionary extravagance with which he is charged, can, 



SPIRIT HOLY. 



463 



for every one article of his faith, and every one duty of his 
practice, make his triumphant appeal to the law and to the 
testimony. — Dr. Chalmers. 

I cannot give a more just idea of the new principle which 
the Spirit of God imparts to us in our conversion, than by 
comparing it with the modern invention of the compass. 
Before the invention of the compass, mariners in a dark 
night were unable with any precision to direct their course. 
Whilst they were in sight of land, or had a view of the sun 
or stars, they could proceed with some degree of certainty : 
but, in the absence of these, they were altogether at a loss. 
But it is not so with mariners at this time. By the help of 
the compass, they can by night steer the ship as well as in 
the day; having constantly at hand, as it were, a sure 
directory : now this is the difference between the natural and 
the spiritual man ; the natural man has reason and conscience, 
which, to a certain degree, are capable of directing his path. 
But numberless occasions arise whereon they fail him utterly. 
The spiritual man has superadded to these, a new and living 
principle abiding in him ; a principle infused in him by the 
Spirit of God, and in exact accordance with his mind and 
will : and by this principle the Spirit himself guides him in 
all his ways. The spiritual man, therefore, in every doubt 
or difficulty, should consult this divine principle within him ; 
and see its bearings, and follow its directions. And as the 
mariner, whilst he observes his compass, consults also his 
chart and maps ; so must he, whilst attending to the motions 
of this principle, consult also the directory which God has 
given us in the Holy Scriptures ; and by means of these 
observations we shall be kept from any great aberrations 
from the way of truth. 

Look but upon a poor man, how solicitous he is, if it be 
but a bond of no great value, to keep the seal fair and whole ; 
but if another have one of a higher nature, as a patent under 
the broad seal, or the like, then to have his box, his leaves 
and wool, and all care is used that it take not the least hurt. 
And shall we then make slight reckoning of the Holy Ghost's 
seal, vouchsafing it not that care, do not so much for it as the 
one man for his bond, the other for his patent, the matter 



464 



SIN. 



being of such concernment ? Let us then, being well and 
orderly sealed by the Spirit, be careful to keep the signature 
from defacing or bruising, nor to suffer the evil Spirit to set 
his mark, put his print with his image and superscription 
upon it; not to carry the seal so loosely as if we cared not 
what became of it : and whereas we are sealed to be close 
and fast, not to suffer every trifling occasion to break us up, 
not to have our souls to lie so open, as to subject ourselves 
to the many pollutions of the world. — Spexcer. 

The return of the tide twice every day is owing to the 
attractive influence which the body of the moon exerts upon 
the earth, and especially upon its great moveable fluid the 
ocean. What a mysterious page of nature does this fact 
open, when we thus behold ourselves linked as it were by an 
invisible chain to a distant world! How forcibly should 
this remind us of our mysterious connexion with the invi- 
sible world of spirits, which is continually drawing us to- 
wards it, and holding us fast by a firm and everlasting bond ! 
The tides do not more faithfully obey the influences of that 
planet, than our heart's affections flow out when acted upon 
by Christ's Spirit. 

The Spirit of God is compared to springing, or living 
water, not water in a font, or vessel. Kow water, besides 
its springing property, is also of a spreading nature ; it has 
no bounds or limits to itself as firm and solid bodies have, 
but receives its restraint by the vessel, or continent, which 
holds it. So the Spirit of the Lord is not straitened in 
himself, but only by the narrow hearts of men into which it 
comes. "Ye are not straitened (says St. Paul) in us," 
i. e. in the ministry of the grace and dispensation of the 
Spirit. 



God counsels us of some great and notorious sin, (Acts 
i. 3, 6, 37 ; Acts ix. 4, 5; 1 Tim. i. 18,) and singles it out 



SIX. 



465 



as the grand evidence of the nature, and malignity of the 
heart. Thus a physician acts in respect to his patient. The 
disease lies deeply rooted in the constitution. He cannot 
have ocular demonstration that this is the case. But he 
finds one or more decisive symptoms which indicates the 
nature of the malady, and the danger to which it exposes the 
subject; on this evidence he proceeds to act, applying his 
remedy to the painful symptoms by adapting it to the pri- 
mary disease from which they originate. David was thus 
instructed by his heavenly physician, " Behold I was shapen 
in iniquity." Though the symptoms of the spiritual disease 
cannot be forgotten by one who is under the process of a 
cure, yet the patient is taught to look to the primary disease. 
Herein is the difference between the real and fancied peni- 
tent. The latter may feel the effects of sin which dwelleth 
in him, but the former discerns the cause, and bewails it as 
St. Paul, Romans vii. 

Conviction of sin denotes something beyond the common 
views of the mind concerning its sins; and is always a 
serious, solemn, heartfelt sense of their reality, greatness, 
guilt, and danger. This all sinners under the gospel have 
not ; as every man knows who possesses a spirit of common 
observation ; and peculiarly every man who becomes a 
subject of this conviction. Every such man knows that 
in his former ordinary state he had no such sense of 
sin. To explain this subject it is necessary to observe, 
that there is a total difference between merely seeing or 
understanding a subject, and feeling it. A man may con- 
template, as a mere object of speculation and intellect, the 
downward progress of his own affairs towards bankruptcy 
and ruin, and have clear views of its nature and conse- 
quences, and still regard it as an object of mere speculation, 
Should he afterwards become a bankrupt, and thus be actu- 
ally ruined, he will experience a state of mind entirely new, 
and altogether unlike anything which he experienced before. 
He now feels the subject; before he only thought on it with 
cool contemplation, and however clear his views were, they 
had no effect on his heart. His former views never moved 

H H 



466 



SIN. 



hini to due efforts for the prevention of his ruin; those 
which he now possesses would have engaged him, had they 
existed at the proper time for this purpose in the most vigo- 
rous exertions. Just such is the difference between the 
common views of sin, and those which are experienced under 
religious conviction. What before was only seen, is now 
realized and felt. 

Such is its malignity, that when God was manifest in the 
flesh, and dwelt among us, nothing but his death would 
satisfy it. His blood called in Acts " blood of God, ; ' sin 
could shed with pleasure, with greater pleasure than any 
other — the blood of Barabbas had no sweetness in it com- 
pared with that of God our Saviour. 

Scarce any sin we act, but hath a nest of sins in it. Then 
think what a heap would they make, were they all put toge- 
ther. Are not our infirmities and little sins, like number- 
less grains of sand ; and may not a weight of too much sand 
sink a ship as soon as a burden of too much iron ? 

It is with indwelling sin as with a river ; while the springs 
and fountains of it are open, and waters are continually 
supplied unto its streams, set a dam before it, and it causeth 
it to rise and swell, until it bear down all, or overthrow the 
banks about it. Let these waters be abated, dried up in 
some good measure in the springs of them, and the 
remainder may be checked and restrained. But still as long 
as there is any running water it will constantly press upon 
wmat stands before it, according to its weight and strength, 
because it is its nature so to do. But if by any means it 
make a passage, it will proceed. So is it with indwelling sin; 
while the springs and fountains of it are open, in vain is it for 
men to set a dam before it by their convictions and resolu- 
tions, vows and promises. They may check it for awhile, 
but it will increase, rise high, and rage at one time or ano- 
ther, until it bears down all those convictions and resolu- 
tions, or makes itself an underground passage by some 
secret lust that shall give a full vent unto it. But now sup- 
pose the springs of it are much dried up by regenerating 
grace, the streams or actings of it abated by holiness ; yet 



SIN. 



467 



whilst any remains of it, it will be pressing constantly to 
have vent, to press forward into actual operation. And 
this is its lusting. 

The enlightened understanding beholds sin as a grand 
evil. It sets it forth as an apostasy in man — rebellion 
against God : as the spear and nails to Jesus Christ. As 
water quenching the spirit of grace — a blur and stain to the 
soul — the venom and essence of all evils — yea, a groaning 
burden on the back of the whole creation — and a thing of such 
monstrous deformities as, did it appear in its own proper 
shape, would not be touched, or looked on by man. Where- 
fore sin (that it may be welcome) covers itself with fig- 
leaves, as Adam ; it veils its face, like Tamar ; it paints and 
tires itself, like Jezebel ; it disguises and feigns itself to be 
another, like Jeroboam's wife ; it courts and flatters to steal 
away hearts, like Absalom ; it comes like Agrippa and Ber- 
nice with great pomp ; in fancy of some apparent goodness 
offering itself to our Saviour, it wrapped up itself in all the 
glories of the world ; nay, in the mantle of love and ange- 
lical protection ; coming to Adam it held forth an apple, and 
promised no less than a godhead — ever it hath lie and a 
cheat in it. This is that deceitfulness of sin mentioned in 
Heb. ii. 13. But the enlightened understanding hath a 
counter-work ; it unveils sin ; it unpaints and undresses it ; 
it plucks off its false appearances and disguises ; it disrobes 
it of all its pomps and fancy ; it discovers the lie, and the 
cheat in it, and shows it up in its own ugly hue and shame- 
ful nakedness. Achan's sin was wrapt up in a Babylonish 
garment 3 but unclothe it, and it was an accursed thing: 
Saul's sin was covered over with sacrifices, but unveil it, and 
it was " witchcraft like rebellion ;" Judas, his sin about the 
precious ointment was painted over with charity— but unpaint 
it, and 'twas arrant thieving. Paul's sin was a cloak of zeal, 
but undress it, and 'twas bloody persecution. 

Though God, from love of his people in Christ, will save 
them from Tophet, yet will he punish their sins. How 
repeatedly did the sword descend on David's family, after 
the matter of Uriah ! He sometimes punishes his people 

h h 2 



468 



SIN. 



more severely in this life than others. On Jonah's disobedi- 
ence a storm pursues him ; a whale devours him; while the 
profane world lived on without control in their lusts. 
Moses for one act of disobedience is excluded from Canaan 
when greater sinners enjoyed that happiness. A gardener 
hates a weed more for being in a bed with the most precious 
flowers ; thus does God hate sin in them. 

It is a sure sign that a man is awakened out of his sleep, 
when he discovers the errors of his dream. In the drawing 
up of water out of a deep well, so long as the bucket is 
under water, we feel not the weight of it ; but as soon as it 
becomes above the water, it begins to hang heavy on the 
hand. When a man dives under water he feels no weight 
of the water, though there may be many tons of it above 
his head ; whereas, a tub half full of the same water, taken 
out of the river, and set upon the same man's head, would 
be very burdensome to him, and soon make him grow weary 
of it. In like manner so long as a man is overhead in sin, 
he is not sensible of the weight of sin, it is not troublesome 
to him ; but when he begins once to come out of that state 
of sin wherein he lay, and lived before, then beginneth sin 
to hang heavy upon him, and he groans under the weight 
thereof. So long as sin is in the will, the proper seat of 
sin, a man feels not the weight of it, but, like a fool, it is a 
sport and pastime to him to do evil. It is therefore a good 
sign that sin is removed out of its seat, out of its chair of 
state, when it becomes burdensome to us ; and such a sense 
of sin may well be considered as an entrance into a state of 
grace. 

During those exalted moments, when grace is in lively 
exercise ; when the disciple of Christ experiences 

" The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy — " 

corrupt nature, (that man of sin within,) and every vile 
affection, are stricken, as it were, with a temporary apo- 
plexy ; and the believer can no more, for the time being, 
commit wilful sin, than an angel of light would dip his 
wings in mud. No ; it is when we come down from the 
mount, and mix again with the world, that, like Moses, we 



SIN. 



469 



are in danger of breaking the tables of the law. But is it 
not enthusiasm, to talk of holding intercourse with God, 
and of knowing ourselves to be objects of his special love ? 
No more enthusiasm, (so we keep within scripture bounds,) 
than it is for a favourite child to converse with his parents, and 
to know that they have a particular affection for him. Neither 
in the strictest reason and nature of things, is it at all absurd 
to believe and expect that God can, and does, and will, com- 
municate his favour to his people, and manifest himself to 
them, as he does not to the world at large. John xiv. 
21, 22. 

Men cannot cease from sin. We have a sad instance of 
this in St. Austin, before his entire and blessed conversion. 
He declares in his confessions how extremely hard it was to 
divorce himself from sensual delights ; they were incarnated 
in his nature, ingrafted into his affections, and the separation 
from them was as the flaying him alive. When he prayed 
for chastity, it was with a restriction, make me chaste, but 
not too soon. In the vigour of his age, the sinning season, 
he was averse to be weaned from those poisonous breasts. 
Till divine grace changed his nature, he could never rescue 
himself from the entanglements of his iniquity. — Spencer, 

The fear of visible vengeance, that sometimes strikes the 
wicked, or the apprehension of judgment to come, may con- 
trol the licentious appetites from breaking forth into actual 
commission of sins. But as when the lions spared Daniel, 
it was not from the change of their wild devouring nature, 
for they destroyed his accusers immediately, but from the 
suspending their hurtful power ; so when a strong fear lays a 
restraint upon the active powers, yet inward lust is the same, 
and would licentiously commit sin, were the restraint taken 
away. 

The outward forbearance of sin without inward purity can 
never commend us to the divine acceptance. A rebel may 
be driven from the frontiers, but so long as he keeps the 
royal city, he is unsubdued. So if a lust keeps possession 
of the heart, though the executive powers may be refrained 
or disabled from the outward acts, it still reigns. 

There may be a forsaking of a particular sin that has 



470 



SIN. 



been delightful, and predominant without insincerity towards 
God, for another lust may have got possession of the heart, 
and take the throne. There is an alternate succession of 
appetites in the corrupt nature, according to the change of 
men's temper or interests in the world. As seeds sown in 
that order in a garden, that 'tis always full of a succession 
of fruits and herbs in season ; so original sin that is sown in 
our nature, is productive of divers lusts, some in the springs 
others in the summer of our age, some in the autumn, others 
in the winter. Sensual lusts flourish in youth, but when 
mature age has cooled these desires, worldly lusts succeed ; in 
old age there is no relish for sensuality, but covetousness 
reigns imperiously. Now he that expels one sin, and enter- 
tains another, continues in a state of sin ; 'tis but exchang- 
ing one familiar for another ; or, to borrow the prophet's 
expression, k< 'Tis as one should fly from a lion, and meet 
with a bear that will as certainly devour him." 

An unrenewed person, while you please him, resembles 
the sea-coast at high water ; all the filth that lies beneath is 
concealed by the incumbent tide. But when the same per- 
son is tempted, or provoked, he is like the beach at low 
water ; and the rubbish and stones, and dead dogs, and cats ? 
become visible presently. 

An unsound and unrenewed heart may abstain from one 
sin, because it is contrary to, and inconsistent with, another 
sin. It is with the sins of our nature, as it is with the dis- 
seases of our bodies. Though all diseases are contrary to 
health ; yet some diseases, as the fever and palsy, are con- 
trary to each other. So are prodigality and covetousness, 
hypocrisy and profaneness. These oppose each other, not 
for mutual destruction as sin and grace do, but for supe- 
riority, each contending for the throne, and sometimes taking 
it by turns. It is with such persons as with the possessed 
man, Matt. xvii. 15, whom the spirit cast sometimes into 
the fire, sometimes into the water. Or if one subdue the 
other, yet the heart is also subdued to the vassalage of that 
lust which is uppermost in the soul. 

It is in the motions of a tempted soul to sin, as in the 
motions of a stone falling from the brow of a hill ; it is 



SIN. 



471 



easily stopped at first, but when once it is set a going, who 
shall stay it ? And therefore, it is the greatest wisdom in 
the world to observe the first motions of the heart, to check 
and stop sin there. The motions of sin are weakest at first: 
a little care and watchfulness may prevent much mischief 
now, which the careless heart, not heeding, is presently 
brought within the power of temptation, as the Syrians 
were brought blindfold into the midst of Samaria before they 
knew where they were. 

It is the truth and sincerity of your sorrow for sin at 
which God looks, not at the measure of it. If then you 
are really anxious to know whether you have been suffi- 
ciently humbled for sin, ask yourself, Are you so hum- 
bled for sin that you are willing to give it up ? Are you so 
humbled for sin that you would not willingly again commit 
even the most favoured of your sins, if all the world were 
offered you ? The refiner does not ask how long has the 
gold remained in the furnace ; he asks, is the dross purged 
away ? — is the baser metal burnt up ? If it be so, then does 
he require nothing further to convince him that the gold 
has been sufficiently long in the crucible. So, if in mourn- 
ing for sin ; if your humbling yourselves for sin has, by 
God's grace, purged away your love for sin, be content 
on this point, although many of the children of God may 
have been far more deeply tried, and far more painfully 
humbled for it than yourselves. 

The unregenerate man will sin willingly. Sin is born like 
the lively and vigorous offspring of a healthy parent, where 
there is no travail and labour in the birth, but where nature 
performs her operations with ease and freedom. But in the 
godly man the principle of grace will check sin in its first 
motions, till it miscarry, and prove an abortion ; or else be 
like an untimely birth before maturity — weak and imper- 
fect; it has not been born with the full consent of the will. 
The sin of the one is lively, like the Israelitish child, (Ex. 
i. 19,) the other, like the Egyptian's, requires a midwife to 
bring it into the world. 

The deceptions of sin tend to harden the mind, by gradu- 
ally, and almost imperceptibly influencing it till it becomes 



472 



SIN. 



quite accustomed to sin. The force of habit is astonishing. 
Surgeons and medical men, who are naturally humane and 
tender, by being accustomed to dissections, wounds, and 
amputation, necessarily lose in a great measure the sensi- 
bility of their minds to these things. On the same principle, 
soldiers after engaging in two or three battles, witness those 
things with little emotion. And so if you yield to the im- 
posing insinuations of sin, and give way by a little and little, 
again and again, you will be so accustomed to them, that the 
cheat will seem to you a reality ; all that sin says you will 
believe to be true ; and by-and-bye you will indulge freely, 
and without remorse, in that at which you once felt shocked ; 
and thus going on, you will become more and more hardened 
till you are beguiled into the commission of sin, of which, 
if it were proposed to you now, you would exclaim, " Is thy 
servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? " 

Sin should be immediately confessed to God. New 
breaches are made up sooner than long quarrels. Green 
wounds are healed easier than old sores. Spots are washed 
out better when newly gotten, than when engraved by long- 
continuance. 

Indwelling sin is the burden and trouble of believers, that 
they are not more holy, more zealous, useful and fruitful ; 
they desire it above life itself ; they know it is their duty to 
watch against this enemy, to fight against it, to pray against 
it, and so they do. And yet notwithstanding all this, such 
is the subtlety, and fraud, and violence, and urgency of this 
adversary, that it frequently prevails, grievously to restrain 
their growth in grace, and lead them into backsliding. 
Hence it is with believers, sometimes, as it is with men in 
some places at sea. They have a good and fair gale of wind, 
it may be all night long ; they ply their tackling, attend 
diligently to their business, and it may be take great content- 
ment to consider how they proceed in their voyage. In the 
morning, or after a season, coming to measure what way 
they have made, and what progress they have had, they 
find that they are much backward of what they were, in- 
stead of getting one step forward ; falling into a swift tide 
or current against them, it hath frustrated all their labours, 



SIN. 



473 



and rendered the wind in their sails almost useless, some- 
what thereby they have borne up against the stream, but have 
made no progress. So is it with believers ; they have a good 
gale of supplies of the Spirit from above, they attend duties 
diligently, pray constantly, hear attentively, and omit nothing 
that may carry them on their voyage towards eternity. But 
after a while, coming seriously to consider by the examina- 
tion of their hearts and ways what progress they have 
made, they find that all their assistance and duties have not 
been able to bear them up against some strong tide or cur- 
rent of indwelling sin. It hath kept them, indeed, that they 
have not been driven and split on rocks and shelves ; it hath 
preserved them from gross, scandalous sins ; but yet they 
have lost in their spiritual frame, or gone backwards, and 
are entangled under many woful decays, which is a notable 
evidence of the life of sin. 

The sin of man, being the lord of all creatures, must 
needs redound to the misery and mortality of all his retinue. 
For it was in the greater world, as in the administration of 
a private family ; the poverty of the master is felt in the 
bowels of the rest ; his stain and dishonour runs into all the 
members of that society. As it is in the natural body, some 
parts may be distempered and ill-affected alone ; others, not 
without contagion on the rest. A man may have a dim eye, 
or a withered arm, or a lame foot, or an impedite tongue, 
without any danger to the parts adjoining ; but a lethargy 
in the head, or an obstruction in the liver, or a dyspepsy 
and indisposition in the stomach, diffuseth universal malig- 
nity through the body, because these are sovereign and 
architectonical parts of man ; so likewise is it in the great 
body of the creation. However other creatures might have 
kept their evil, if any had been in them, within their own 
bounds, yet that evil which man, the lord and heart of the 
whole, brought into the world, was a spreading and infec- 
tious evil, which conveyed poison into the whole frame of 
nature, and planted the seed of universal dissolution, which 
shall one day deface with darkness and horror the beauty of 
that glorious frame which we now admire. 

Why was sin suffered to enter the world, which has hurled 



474 



SIN. 



such confusion quite round the globe ; to finish which, cost 
God so dear as the blood of his own and only begotten 
Son ? Suppose a curious artist, who had made the finest and 
best vessel of glass that ever was made, should let it fall out 
of his hand, and break it all in pieces., with a design to 
show his greater skill in so setting the broken pieces toge- 
ther, as to make it more beautiful, and useful, and stronger 
than ever, even so strong as to be out of danger of being 
ever broke ; would any censure his conduct, or say he had 
acted a weak or unbecoming part in letting the glass he had 
made with so much care and art, fall so as to break ? Would 
not all commend the act, and admire his skill? For though 
to melt glass is confessed by all to be a curious art, yet to be 
able so to set together broken pieces, as to render it proof 
against all accidents, the hammer not excepted, would be a 
far greater piece of skill. The application is easy and very 
instructing, though the simile falls short in this, that man 
broke and destroyed himself. " O Israel, thou hast 
destroyed thyself ; but in me is thine help." (Hosea xiii. 9.) 
For God to create so noble a creature as man, endowed (as 
he originally was) with such noble powers and vast capaci- 
ties, was much ; but to new-form him, after sin had marred 
and broke him, as he shall undoubtedly be formed by Christ, 
both as to the body and soul, in the morning of the resur- 
rection, is much more. — The Pulpit. 

A man that hath fed high for a long time comes to have 
a plethory of crude and undigested humours ; it so falls out, 
that this party riding afterwards in the wet, takes cold, and 
a fever ensues ; if the physician be a wise man, one that hath 
parts and skill, ask him, what was the cause of this sick- 
ness, and he will tell you the ill humours of the body, and the 
abounding of them ; yet it is like enough it had not turned 
to a fever so soon, if he had not took cold or been some way 
troubled in his journey. So when God brings punishment 
upon people, the proper cause is in every man's self ; there 
are personal sins in every man to make him obnoxious to the 
curse of God : yet may the sins of the father or parent, or 
neighbour, be the occasion that God will punish sin ; so that 
it may be said, that the personal sins of men are the pri- 



SIN. 



475 



niary, internal, antecedent, dispositive cause of God's judg- 
ments ; but the sins of other men, as they are members of the 
whole, may be the external, irritating, excitating cause of 
God's judgments upon a people or nation. — Spencer. 

He that falleth into the midst of a deep river must labour 
and take more pains to get out, than he that hath fell in but 
at the brink thereof ; the one must swim hard for it, 
whereas the other, catching hold upon the bank, or some- 
thing else growing thereupon, more easily draweth himself 
out : thus, if we fall into great sins, it must and will cost us 
more sorrow and tears, than if we fell into lesser. Manasses' 
sin was great, and his sorrow was proportionable. Peter's 
sin was great, and his sorrow was suitable : so must ours be ; 
if our sins be many and great, our sorrow must be so much 
the greater ; if but few and little, our sorrow may be the less, 
and we sooner attain the peace of conscience. — Ieid. 

It is with the children of men, as with the housewife, that 
having diligently swept her house, and cast the dust out of 
doors, can see nothing amiss, not so much as a speck of 
dust in it ; whereas, if the sun do but a little shine in, 
through some cranny in the wall, or some broken pane in the 
window, she may soon see the whole house swim, and 
swarm with innumerable moats of dust floating to and fro 
in the air, which for dimness of light or sight before she was 
not able to discover. Even so it is with many that are care- 
ful of their ways, so that little may be seen amiss that might 
require either reformation or amendment ; yet when they 
shall come to look more attentively into God's law, a little 
beam of light, reflecting upon their souls from it, will dis- 
cover unto them such an innumerable company, as well of 
corruptions in their hearts, as of errors and oversights in 
their lives, that it shall make them, as men amazed, cry out, 
Lord, what earthly man doth know the errors of his life ! — 
Ibid. 

A traveller in his journey thinks of nothing so much as 
his journey's end ; if he stumble by the way, that's against 
his will, and more than he intended ; and if he chance to get 
a fall, or to go out of his way, he rests not till he be up and in 



476 



SIN. 



again. So look but upon a hunter, he hath no design to 
follow his way at all, whether in the way or out of the way, 
his mind is upon the game. An archer bends his bow, 
delivers his arrow, and though it fall short or over, on one 
side or other, his aim was at the mark : thus it is with the 
children of God ; their souls are set upon holiness, their aim 
is at heaven, their thoughts upon Zion, their looks towards 
Jerusalem, and their face thitherward ; and if there be any 
aberrations or turning aside, it is no more they, but sin that 
dwelleth in them : it is not so with the ungodly, they have 
no such design at God's glory, the desire of their hearts is 
the satisfaction of their lusts and sinful pleasures, they aim 
at nothing else but sin, and so in the end reap the wretched 
fruit of their own wicked ways. — Ibid. 

It is recorded of Mr. Ryland, who was condemned in 
1783, that, from the time he absconded, until he was appre- 
hended, he continually sat with a razor in a prayer-book. 
What a state of mind, to have just conviction and faith enough 
to pray, and yet to be so desperately wretched as to live 
with the instrument of self-murder continually in his hand ! 
You shall see a man enlightened to know God's will, and in 
daily prayer. His conscience without ordinances would 
know no rest — yet, strange infatuation, he lives under the 
power of some wilful and presumptuous sin to which the 
sentence of eternal wrath is annexed — he clings to some be- 
setting sin which cuts the throat of his sincerity, and grasps 
it, like the murderous weapon, to destroy his soul. 

In the time of the law, the Nazarite was not only com- 
manded to abstain from wine and strong drink, but he might 
not eat grapes, whether moist or dry, or anything that was 
made of the vine-tree from the kernels to the very husk. 
Strange that such small things as these, in which there could 
be no appearance of danger, should be forbidden ! Yet not 
so strange as true ; but by the contentment of these, they 
might be drawn to the desire of wine, and so be carried on 
to sin. Thus, the remote occasion was forbidden, to show 
how careful every one should be to avoid the least occasion 
of sin ; hence is that prayer of David, " Remove from me 



SIN. 



477 



the way of lying," by the way, meaning the occasion of that 
sin. And heathen Seneca could say as much as we can, let 
us keep ourselves from slippery places; for even on dry 
ground it is not very strongly that we stand.— Ibid. 

There is nothing more ordinary than this : men conclude 
they are converted because they do not sin as they have 
done, whereas the true cause is this, the temptations and 
opportunities are removed ; so that there is not the work of 
God's grace changing the heart, but the work of his provi- 
dence removing the objects thereof. Snakes and adders lie 
in their holes, and are as well in winter as summer ; yet be- 
cause in winter they want the warm reviving beams of the 
sun, they do not appear out of their holes. Yet they still re- 
tain their poisonous venom and malignity — and let but the 
genial spring arrive, and the warm sun shine around them, 
and they will issue forth, their nature unchanged, as subtle 
and malignant as ever. Thus sin, it may be, is as lively and 
powerful in thee as ever, but there are not the kindly and 
warm temptations to draw it forth. Let the due occasion 
or season arrive, and it will shed its poison as freely as ever. 
The heart is still the same. The lion is a lion still, though 
his claws are pared, and he shut up in a dungeon ; and thou 
mayest still be harbouring sin, though deprived of the instru- 
ments for committing it. 

Regenerate men sin, yet the peace is not broken betwixt 
God and them, because their minds never yielded to sin. 
As it is betwixt princes, they are all peace though pirates of 
-either nation rob the other subjects, yet it breaks not the 
peace, it being done without the will of the king : so it is 
with sin in God's children, it breaks not the peace betwixt 
God and them, because it is but a rebel, and they agree not 
to it. There is a difference betwixt entertaining of sins as 
thieves and robbers, and as guests and strangers ; wicked 
men entertain sin as a guest, the godly man as a robber ; 
the one invites it as a friend and acquaintance, the other 
throws it off as a rebellious traitor. — Spencer. 

The providence of God is in some way conversant about 
those actions that are sinful, but yet it is not in such a way 
as either argues him to be the author or approver of sin. 



478 



SIN. 



Accordingly, we might choose to express ourselves concern- 
ing the matter to this effect ; that the providence of God is 
conversant about those actions to which sin is annexed, 
rather than it is conversant about sin itself, or the obliquity 
or sinfulness thereof. Now, that we may understand this 
matter, we must distinguish between what is nature, and 
what is sinful in action ; the former is from God, the latter 
from ourselves. This may be illustrated by such similitudes 
as these. The motion of a bowl is from the hand that throws 
it ; but the irregularity of the motion when it turns out of a 
straight line is from the bias that turns it aside. So the 
motion of a horse is excited by the heel or spur of the rider ; 
but if it goes lame, the defect or halting it has in its motion 
proceeds from an inward indisposition in the horse and not 
the rider. Some illustrate it by similitude taken from the 
sun's drawing forth vapours from the earth, by that heat 
which has a tendency to exhale them ; but the stench that is 
exhaled from a dunghill is not from the sun, but from the 
nature of the subject from which it is drawn forth. So the 
providence of God enables sinners to act in a natural way ; 
but the sinfulness, irregularity, or moral effects that attend 
those actions is from the corruption of our own nature : or 
to speak more plainly, the man that blasphemes could not 
think or utter his blasphemy without the concurrence of the 
common providence of God, which enables him to think or 
speak — these are natural actions ; but that the thoughts or 
tongue should be set against God or goodness, that is from 
the depravity of our nature. Again, to kill or take away the 
life of a man is in some respects a natural action, as it can- 
not be done without thought or strength to excite what 
we design : these are the gifts of providence, and in this 
respect God concurs to the action. Thus Joab could not 
have killed Abner, or Amasa, if he had not had a natural 
power to use the instrument with which he did it : this was 
from God ; but the malice that prompted him to abuse these 
gifts of providence, and his hypocritical subtilty, and that 
dissimulation or disguise of friendship which gave him an 
opportunity to execute his bloody design, was from the wick- 
edness of his own heart. 



SIN. 



479 



The providence of God may be conversant in an objective 
way, about those actions to which sin is annexed, without 
his being the author or approver of it. Sin would not be 
committed in many instances, if there were not some objects 
presented which give occasion thereunto. The object that 
presents itself may be from God, when the sin which is 
occasioned thereby is from the corruption of our nature. 
Thus Joseph's brethren would not have thought of selling 
him into Egypt, at least when they did, if he had not been 
sent to visit his brethren. Providence ordered his going to 
inquire of their welfare, and hereby the object was presented 
to them which their own corrupt nature inclined them to 
abuse. In the former of these respects, in which the provi- 
dence of God was objectively conversant about this action, 
God is said to have sent Joseph into Egypt, though every 
circumstance that was vile and sinful therein was from 
themselves. This will further appear. An object might 
have been presented, and no sinful actions ensued. Thus 
the wedge of gold and the Babylonish garment were no 
temptation to other Israelites, who saw them among the 
spoils of Jericho, as well as Achan, though they were so to 
him through the covetousness of his own temper and the 
corruption of his nature, which now discovered itself, and 
moved him to this sinful action. So God knows that if the 
Gospel be preached, some will stumble under it. He orders, 
notwithstanding, that it shall be preached, that those whom 
he had ordained unto eternal life might be converted by it. 
And our Saviour appeared publicly at the feast of the pass- 
over, though he knew that the Jews would put him to 
death : the end of his going to Jerusalem was, not that he 
might draw forth their corruption — but that he might finish 
his work. Moreover, when the providence of God is said to 
be conversant about sin, it is in suffering or permitting it, 
and not in suggesting or tempting to it, for no one ought to 
say that he is " tempted of God," (James i. 13, 14,) ; but so 
far as the providence of God denies restraining grace, from 
whence corrupt nature takes occasion to break forth, it is 
conversant about sin occasionally, not effectively ; as when 
the banks, or flood-gates that keep the waters within their 



480 



SIN. 



due bounds, are broken down by the owner thereof, who does 
not think fit to repair them, the waters will, according to 
the course of nature, overflow the country ; or if the hedge 
or enclosure that secure the standing corn be taken away, the 
beasts by a propensity of nature will tread it down and 
devour it. So if that which would have a tendency to pre- 
vent or restrain sin be taken away, it will be committed. 
And the providence of God may do this either in a way of 
sovereignty, or as punishment for former sins committed, 
without being charged as the author of sin. 

A fly with long legs and wings, of the tribe of gnats, had 
made several circuits round the candle, and at last fairly 
threw itself into the flame. After struggling for some time, 
with difficulty it effected its escape ; not however without 
loss of limbs ; yet notwithstanding its legs were somewhat 
shortened, its wings appeared uninjured ; at any rate it took 
flight, and I did not see it again for some minutes. I had, 
however, scarcely ceased wondering at the folly and insensi- 
bility of the fly, when the little creature again presented 
itself to my notice. I soon perceived it had not learnt wis- 
dom by its former warnings, for its whirlings and turnings 
round the candle seemed, if possible, swifter than before, as 
if it possessed no small degree of recklessness of life. 
Again, it had several narrow escapes, but again it flew 
swiftly to the evil, till at length, being tangled and overcome, 
it perished in the flame. Retreat. Take warning from the 
poor fly. 

James i. 14, 15. 'Tis not the light, but the putrid matter, 
which makes the torch to send forth its stench, though it is 
true it was not till it was lighted. You cannot altogether 
blame Satan, suggestion can do nothing without lust ; though 
it be Satan's flame, and he may hold the candle, yet the fire 
is in the wood. 

The sin which is in our corrupt nature sticks to us to 
the last. One compares it to a wild fig tree which, how- 
ever neglected or ill used, still flourishes. Or to ivy in 
the wall ; cut off the body, the boughs, sprigs, branches, yet 
still there will be something sprouting up again until the 



SIN. 



481 



wall be digged down. Such is indwelling sin : though we 
pray, strive, and cut off the excrescences and its buddings out 
here and there, yet, till it be torn up by the strong hand of 
death, it continues in us. 

History informs us that a certain king made a law against 
adultery, by which the offender on conviction was doomed 
to lose both his eyes. It unhappily turned out that the son 
of the king violated this law, and was convicted. What was 
to be done where the feelings of nature, or justice must sus- 
tain a severe suffering ? Must the parent's heart be rent 
with the affecting sight of a child reduced to such extremity 
of misery, by virtue of a law of which he was the author ; or 
must the stern demands of justice be outraged ? Neither ! 
An expedient was devised. He ordered one of his son's 
eyes to be put out, and he plucked out one of his own eyes. 
But how deeply were all affected with the guilt of a crime 
which could call for such a sacrifice, and in what a new light 
did the son behold his sin which he had before thought lightly 
of? When he looked upon his parent's affliction, of what 
magnitude did his crime appear in his eyes ! Apply this to 
redemption. God, that his law may be honoured and his 
justice sustain no outrage, must behold his Son bleed, and 
expire on a cross of suffering. It is by the Father's hand 
that the Son must be bruised. It is He who must pour out 
the vials of his wrath upon his only begotton Son, and hide 
the light of his countenance from him who had dwelt in his 
bosom from all eternity. In what an awful light must sin 
appear in our eyes from such a display of God's wrath in 
the sight of the whole universe, from the infliction of such a 
retribution, — the demand for such a sacrifice ! 

A sheep and a pig may both travel on the road together 
without betraying their several propensities ; but let them 
fall into a muddy ditch, and they will quickly discover their 
nature. The pig is the sinner ; the sheep the believer ; let 
them both fall into the slough of sin, the poor sheep will 
struggle and strive for its life to get out, the swinish sinner 
will lie and wallow with vast contentment in the muddy 
ditch of sin. How eagerly will the one fly to the fountain 



I 



482 



SIN. 



and wash, that he may be clean ! How satisfied is the other 
with the filthy state to which his sin has reduced him ! 

Sincerity doth not so cover the sins of the believer as that 
he need not confess them, be humbled for them, or sue out 
a pardon for them : a penny is as due a debt as a pound, and 
therefore to be acknowledged ; indeed that which is a sin of 
infirmity in the committing, becomes a sin of presumption, 
by hiding of it, and hardening of it. 

A father may, from his indulgence and love to his child, 
pass by a failing in his waiting upon him ; as if he spills the 
wine, or breaks the glass he is bringing to him ; but surely 
he will not allow himt o throw it down willingly. Though a 
man may easily be entreated to forgive a man that wounded 
him unawares, when he meant him no hurt, yet he will 
not beforehand give him leave to do it. 

A stone in a quarry requires stroke after stroke till sepa- 
rated, and transferred to the palace. No stone is so em- 
bedded in a quarry as sin in us; stroke after stroke is 
necessary to loosen sin in us. 

All inactive matter has an indisposition to be diverted, or 
a resistance which it makes to a change of state. Bodies 
appear to be not only incapable of changing their actual 
state, whether it be of motion or rest ; but to be endowed 
with a power of resisting such a change. We know that it 
requires force to put a body which is at rest in motion ; an 
exertion of strength is also requisite to stop a body which is 
already in motion. It is thus with the soul, which is not 
only incapable of changing its state whether to motion or 
rest, or putting forth any active powers, but, as in matter, 
there is lodged in it a power of resistance. This is the prin- 
ciple of evil which resists every motion from without to 
rouse the soul into spiritual life and activity, and nothing 
but a momentum, or power greater than this resistance, can 
fit it for the passive operations of grace. 

Sincerity doth not so cover the saint's failings as to take 
away their sinful nature ; wandering thoughts are sins in a 
saint as well as in any other : a weed will be a weed wherever 
it grows, though in a garden among the choicest flowers ; 



SIN. 



483 



they mistake then, who, because the saint's sins are covered, 
deny them to be sins. 

The spirit of God begets in the man that is born of the 
Spirit a natural hatred to sin, though he loved it in his old 
estate. The vulture's nature is to prey with horrid prefer- 
ence on the putrid carcases of the dead. But did you ever 
see the gentle dove gorging the loathsome food ? So the 
sinner feeds with delight on the nauseous enjoyments of his 
iniquity, like the carrion-eating bird of prey, while the rege- 
nerate soul has a holy disgust of all that is offensive to his 
heavenly nature. 

So effectually does the delusion of security enclose and 
encase the heart ; " that the arrows of the Lord," though 
barbed and winged with an angel's hand, would fail to stick 
fast in it : so potent is thes pell, that it enables us to listen, 
not only to truths the most pungent, but even the descrip- 
tion which portrays the very delusion itself, without any 
self-application or effect. With such certainty does it turn 
aside, and ward off every salutary impression, that, like a 
building defended from the lightnings of heaven by a rod of 
steel, we can venture amongst the forked lightnings of the 
truth, and yet come out from them free, unscathed, and 
untouched. 

The ceasing from the acts of sin does not always proceed 
from victorious grace. In the absence of alluring objects, 
there is a ceasing from the vicious acts; but the sinful in- 
tentions may be then most intense : as hunger is more sharp 
in a time of famine, when there is no food to satisfy it ; and 
thirst, in a wilderness where there are no springs or fruits 
to refresh it, is more burning and tormenting. Sometimes, 
through impotence or age, men are disabled from doing the 
sin they still love : as a disease causes such a distaste of 
pleasing meats and drinks, that an intemperate person is 
forced to abstain from them. Sometimes conscience will 
check the issues of sin, as a winter's cold will keep down the 
rising of the sap in a tree : yet virtue is still in the root. 
But spiritual mortification is like the effect of a winter's 
severity on a tree, which, though not quite dead, can never 
afterwards supply more sap than will produce a few sickly 

i i 2 



484 



SIN. 



and abortive buds. Sin in the believer who mortifies his 
members is not merely restrained, but enfeebled, withered, 
and in a dying state. 

That fear and pain should inseparably attend sin when the 
soul is in a healthy state, is one of the provisions of mercy. 
Sensibility to bodily pain is a benevolent provision, and is 
bestowed for the purpose of warning us to avoid such vio- 
lence as would affect the functions or uses of its parts. The 
sensibilities of the human frame are appropriate endowments ; 
not qualities necessarily arising from life ; still less the con- 
sequences of delicacy of texture. They are suited to the 
degree of exposure of each part of the body, and destined 
for the protection of the different organs. We perceive no 
instance of pain being bestowed as a source of suffering, 
or punishment purely, without admitting that no happier 
contrivance could be found for the protection of the part. 
If the living frame were susceptible only of pleasurable sen- 
sations, it would be the same as placing it where injuries 
would meet it at every step, and whether felt or no, it would 
be destructive of life. And thus sin is accompanied with its 
sting, not so much to inflict punishment, as to preserve us 
from subjecting ourselves to its evils. By exposing the 
soul to suffering, it thus quickens it to watchfulness against 
the injuries it inflicts. The misery which it brings on the 
wounded conscience is intended to be its natural preservative. 
How merciful a condition is annexed to transgression — the 
pain of sin is the guardianship of piety and virtue. 

Sin is a barbed and poisoned arrow, which, if once allowed 
to enter, will penetrate deeper and deeper, and will remain 
unless removed by a moral treatment adapted to the moral 
constitution of man ; and the wound cannot be healed till 
the sin is taken away. You may cover it up, you may for- 
get it, you may, like a man with a wounded side, take care to 
keep the wounded part from the slightest touch which may 
disturb its quiet — but the wound is still there, and it cannot 
be healed till the sting which was left in it is taken away. 

There is no getting rid of the corrupt nature of man until 
death prostrates it in the dust. It is like the Jewish leprosy 
in the walls of the tainted house, which could never be era- 



SOCIETIES. 



485 



dicated until the whole building was. taken down. Bat its 
nature undergoes a material change through the operation 
of grace upon it. Just as the virulent properties of an 
acid are neutralised by the mixture of alkali, the substance 
is not destroyed, or removed, but the character is changed — 
so the whole leaven of corruption, when acted on by grace, 
is altered in its pernicious effects, and assumes a new charac- 
ter, although it is not taken away. 

What should we think of a young man who went straying 
about, and wandering like a vagabond over the country, 
exposed to hunger, and cold, and all the inclemency of the 
weather, without a friendly door to receive him, or money in 
his pocket to provide common necessaries ; and this too 
when he had an opulent estate for his provision, and a 
plentiful and delightful home to dwell in ? Yet such is the 
madness of him who gives the full reins to a loose, carnal, 
and sensual mind, pursues the vanities, and stains his soul 
with the husks of this world's poor and sorry entertainment, 
while he neglects the solid comforts and delights of a 
heavenly Father's home ; and turns from God " the habi- 
tation" of his people, and those pleasures of his house" which 
are " at his right hand for evermore." 



At present the extent of the evil prevailing in the 
heathen world, and the apparent hopelessness to the eye of 
sense of relief on a large scale, conspire to deaden the feeble 
sympathy of some, and to render others comparatively satis- 
fied with their own callousness and indifference ; just as a 
man of humanity, who could not see a miserable object 
perish at his own door without affording the relief within his 
power, might pass over a field of battle covered with the 
wounded and the dying, and be so shocked with the uni- 
versality of the wretchedness, that he might not stretch a hand 
for the rescue of any individual sufferer. Multitudes, we fear, 



486 



SOCIETIES. 



because they cannot do what they would, omit to do what 
they can ; but this is not the spirit of Him, who, while he 
wept to see the multitudes as sheep without a shepherd, 
healed all those who came to him, and then sent out his disci- 
ples, to preach the glad tidings of the gospel to the lost sheep 
of the house of Israel. 

Much praiseworthy zeal is expended in societies which 
have undertaken the business of enlightening the gentile 
world ; but is it not to be feared that while we are engaged, 
some in making, some in hearing, speeches on the subject of 
sending the Bible to the heathen ; and while we are contri- 
buting our money and our influence to the promotion of so 
blessed an object, we may be suffering the page of God's life- 
giving word to remain unread in our own homes? To par- 
ticipate in giving the blessing to others while we refuse to 
appropriate it also to ourselves, is as though the adventurous 
traveller, plunging into a deep, dark cavern, should place 
in another's hand the torch on which his own safety and his 
own life depended, and should take his separate way heedless 
of the unseen danger which he might encounter, the sub- 
terranean river on the one hand, or the precipitous abyss 
on the other. The madness of such a one would be sense 
and reason compared with the insane folly of those who, 
while they minister the word of God to the heathen, suffer 
not its rays to fall upon their own dark path. 

There was a vessel overtaken by a storm, and in immi- 
nent danger of going down. The captain hoisted out the 
best boat, put the passengers into it, and gave them bread, 
a chart and compass. The storm increased, but the, cap- 
tain and some of the crew still clung to the sinking vessel, 
and a cry was heard from the boat which floated over the 
vessel, and fell on the ears of those on board : " Why will ye 
perish — O why will ye cling to that vessel, and be ruined V 
Many of you, who, by your aid and contributions, have sent 
the Bible Society into the ocean of the world, are, alas ! your- 
selves in a ruinous condition, and soon you must be in the 
billows of God's wrath. Hasten into the life-boat. There 
is the bread of life, and the chart of God's word, and the 
compass pointing to the polar star, Christ. 0 hear the voice 



SOCIETIES. 



487 



of those that are in it, and sailing securely over the billowy 
ocean — Why, O why will ye perish — why will ye die 
eternally ? 

It was said of the magnificent statue of Jupiter Phidias, 
that if it rose up from its place it would burst the roof of the 
building in which it was enthroned. And so is it with the 
spirit of christian missions ; let her but once arise in the 
majesty of her divine strength, and the greatness of her 
colossal dimensions, and the vaulted dome of ignorance 
which covers the Jewish, Pagan, and Mahommedan world, 
shall be rent and burst asunder, and lie scattered in ruins 
at her feet. 

In the days of the apostles, in the island of Pharos, near 
Alexandria, a magnificent tower was built which was seen at 
the distance of one hundred miles ; on the top of which lights 
were placed, and kept burning during the night, and Pharos 
was the guide of similar erections. The Christian is to be a 
moral Pharos, or light-house, holding forth the word of life, 
and erected to direct endangered mariners into a safe har- 
bour. He is to shine : how ? first by a holy life in his own 
country at home. He should shine too in active exertions — 
" ye are the light of the world," — " a city set on a hill cannot 
be hid," — "let your light so shine before men, that they 
may see your good works and glorify," not you, but "your 
Father which is in heaven." Untiring: benevolence is the 
character of the true Christian. We must invade the king- 
dom of darkness, we must endeavour to kindle a bright 
flame of christian light in every quarter, till the whole earth 
be in possession of the invaluable blessing. Now religious 
societies afford you the advantage of united and consecrated 
efforts for this purpose ; especially Bible societies, and 
Missionary societies are spreading this divine life far and 
wide. The Pharos of Alexandria might be seen one hun- 
dred miles, — the Pharos of missionary societies shines thou- 
sands, yea, more than thousands of miles : the Pharos of Alex- 
andria could but direct the mariner to a temporal haven, 
and preserve his earthly existence, — the Pharos of the mis- 
sionary cause guides immortal souls to eternal bliss. Should 
not his lights be burning ? over what seas of error should 



488 



SOUL. 



not these lights shine ? Should not he point the deluded 
Mahommedan to the only true Prophet — the Ishmaelite of 
the seed of Abraham to his blessed High Priest and divine 
Redeemer, who ever lives to make intercession for us? 
Should he not direct the Hindoo from his multiplied idols 
to the true and living God — from the worship of evil spirits 
to the worship of all flesh — the only complete Saviour of 
man ? What a scheme of christian and magnificent bene- 
volence is the scheme of christian missions, originating in 
the mind of Christ! Surely, there is grandeur of spirit, 
there is largeness of mind in missionary enterprises far 
beyond all the projects of this world's ambition or glory !— - 

BlCKERSTETH. 



Sboul. 

It may be taken as a great and distinctly marked prin- 
ciple in the arrangement of nature, that there is nothing 
wasteful, and nothing unmeaning ; and yet, unless man be 
appointed to a higher and nobler existence, it is undeniable 
that there has been bestowed on him a vast deal which is 
truly superfluous, and that no proportion whatever is main- 
tained between the powers wherewith he is endowed, and 
the achievements which are placed within his reach. Who 
can contemplate man, and not perceive him to be possessed 
of energies and capacities which are thrown away, or lost, 
if a few years spent within the trammels of a circumscribed 
scene made up the sum-total of his being ? If you extended 
man's life to thousands of years, and allowed not during 
this long period old age to enervate his powers, he might 
continue gathering in accessions of knowledge, in the varied 
scenes which now invite his research ; but any one of which, 
far too ample to be traversed in the present span of exist- 
ence, would remain unexhausted where centuries on cen- 
turies had been given to their investigation. And what is 
this but saying, that man is blessed with immeasurably larger 
capacities than it is possible to fill during the scant moments 



SOUL. 



489 



of his lifetime ; so that if at death he be altogether with- 
drawn from the theatre of being, he carries down with him 
into nothingness a rich freight of unemployed and unde- 
veloped energies ; and thus leaves behind him a record of 
the wastefulness of the Creator, and furnishes a proof that 
God bestows what is not wanted, and gives means without 
an end. We will just suppose, that which is matter of fact 
in man's intellectual constitution, were also matter of fact in 
his physical. If there were limbs, or nerves, or organs in 
man's body, which answered no present use, or whose office 
were inconsiderable when compared with their evident 
power, the anatomist who has rigidly learned that nature 
does nothing without an end, would be inclined to the per- 
suasion that the body has yet to pass into some other condi- 
tion, and that then the useless and half employed powers 
would find full room for exercise. It is certain that there is 
much in the anatomy of the infant which is only to be ac- 
counted for on the supposition that the infant is to grow into 
the man ; and if we could find the same traces of a prospec- 
tive arrangement in the full-grown man, the inference would 
seem unavoidable, that manhood is not the last stage of the 
body's existence, but that it is designed to be ushered into 
some broader arena, where the yet unused organs shall be 
all brought into play. But what we thus suppose in man's 
physical anatomy, is equally found in his intellectual and 
moral. There are embryo powers which are either not at 
all, or only partially called forth on earth; there are capa- 
cities which will hold immeasurably more than they are 
here required to contain ; there is a grasp and tenacity of 
intellect which are as much out of place, if there be no 
futurity, as would be the sinew and grapple of a giant, when 
only a feather is to be raised, or a straw to be wielded ; 
there are unutterable longings which find nothing in the 
present scene at all corresponding; in short, the soul of 
man cannot be " filled," it is too big for time, and craves 
eternity. And what do we infer from this ascertained dis- 
proportion between the powers and circumstances of man ? 
Shall not the intellectual anatomist proceed, as in the like 
case the physical would proceed? Shall we not believe 



490 



SOUL. 



that the excess of energies over present employment wit- 
nesses that the soul is appointed to a future and far higher 
career— that she is destined to expatiate in a sphere, com- 
pared to that which now binds her journeyings, which 
shrinks into a point ? And shall we not learn from the 
known restlessness of man, from the fact, (which, be it ob- 
served, is the sole exception to the rule, and the single in- 
stance of departure from uniform principle,) the fact that 
creation cannot satisfy the creature, but that the world with 
all it can afford is too little — shall we not learn from this, 
that the death of the body terminates not the existence of 
the spirit; but that in some yet untravelled region, into 
which the soul shall be hereafter translated, there are ob- 
jects great enough and glorious enough to engage our every 
power, and crown our every capacity, and satiate our every 
longing. — Melvill. 

It is sad to think of the injury that men do to their own 
souls ; they go with famished souls from day to day, while 
they have most proper and suitable nutriment for them just 
at hand, but they will not touch so as to taste or feed upon 
these things. Starving in the midst of plenty is their case ; 
it is as if a sick man should have by him, in the midst of his 
languishing sickness, some vial of very choice and precious 
spirits, that in all likelihood would be relieving to him, and 
save him from death ; but he keeps it by him, and will dis- 
course to you very curiously and philosophically concerning 
the nature and virtues of this thing, yet never uses it, nor 
apprehends that he is concerned to use it, or that his case 
requires it ; and so dies away with a medicine at hand all 
the while that might have saved his life. — Spencer. 

There is not in the compass of nature a more lively em- 
blem of the soul, imprisoned in this mortal body, than 
(homely as the comparison may appear) that of a bird in 
the egg. The little animal, though thus confined, is in 
the midst of the scenes of its future life. It is not 
distance which excludes it from the air, the light, and all 
the objects with which it will so soon be conversant. It is 
in the midst of them, though utterly shut out from them ; 
and, when the moment for bursting its enclosure comes, 



SOUL. 



491 



will be ushered into a new world, and translated into scenes 
unknown before, not by the change of place, but by passing 
into another state of existence. So it is with the soul. It 
is now, in a certain sense, in eternity, and surrounded with 
eternal things. Even the body to which it is attached 
stands out on the surface of this globe, in infinite space. 
Besides, the spiritual world envelopes it on every side ! It 
is encompassed with a cloud of witnesses ; innumerable 
Spirits encamp about it ; and God is as intimately present 
to it, as to the highest angel that beholds his face in heaven. 
Nevertheless, to realise to itself the nearness and the pre- 
sence of these natural objects, at least to know them as it 
will know them hereafter, is a thing impossible. Why ? 
Not because any tract of space is interposed between the 
soul and them, but because the spiritual principle, while 
united to flesh, is, by the laws of that union, so imprisoned in 
the body, as to be denied all means of intercourse with those 
scenes which lie around its prison walls. The hand of death 
alone can unbar the door, and let the spirit out into the 
free air, and open daylight of eternity. There is one im- 
portant particular more, in which this analogy holds. Un- 
less the embryo is vivified while in the egg, it can receive 
no vitalising principle after. If the shell is broken, the 
young bird comes out dead. Thus it is also with the soul. 
Unless impregnated with spiritual life, before it leaves the 
body, it will come forth still born into eternity, and continue 
for ever dead in trespasses and sins. — Woodward. 

When you enter on an estate, you may see a mud-built 
hovel, wretchedly constructed, and indicating the meanness 
of him who reared it, and of those who dwell in it ; and as 
you advance forwards on the same estate, you shall see a 
stately mansion carrying on its very aspect grandeur and 
magnificence ; and as you survey its various parts and de- 
corations, you perceive it was not raised, like the low hovel, 
by some ignorant peasant in the village, but by an architect 
of an enlarged capacity and cultivated genius : while all that 
is around it bespeaks the dignity and wealth of its owner. 
So it is with the soul of one man who is inhabited by the 
Holy Spirit, while another is destitute of it. The condition 



492 



SOUL. 



of the one — all poverty, all meanness, all insignificance, and 
indicating the spiritual ignorance and poverty of the true 
riches of Christ — the soul an empty tenement. The other 
plainly indicating the enlightened views, and enlarged soul 
of him who had been under the operation of the Holy 
Spirit, evidencing him to be wealthy in the spiritual gifts and 
graces of Christ's Spirit ; in a word, a man whose soul is 
enriched and adorned by the presence of God. 

The wintry day is a striking emblem of the state of the 
soul of every individual till it is renewed. The mind of the 
sinner is so benighted, that he sees no glory in God : his 
heart is so cold that he is a stranger to the sweet emotions 
of love and gratitude ; and his life is barren, like the wintry 
soil, of the wholesome fruits of righteousness. The day in 
spring, on the contrary, is obviously descriptive of the re- 
newed soul — all is life, animation, fruitfulness. Then the 
eye is opened, and God has said, " Let there be light," and 
there is light. It is the blessed dawn of an eternal day. 
It is the work of God to change the gloomy month of winter 
for the delightful season of spring : " Every good gift," kc. 
No one but he that formed the spring can renew it. No 
human power could have introduced the spring a month 
earlier, or have introduced it at all. So the efforts of the 
greatest and best of men for the renewal of sinners, without 
the gracious influences of the Spirit, will be equally ineffi- 
cacious. 

The soul of every man is a vessel launched in time, and 
sailing into the ocean of eternity. It has a precious cargo 
on board, an understanding that is capable of knowing and 
embracing God, a conscience which has been lighted up by 
the Holy Ghost, and a never-dying spirit. But sin has 
brought this precious vessel into deep and troubled waters, 
and stirred up a mighty tempest round about her ; and un- 
less we send to her the life-boat to bring her out of these 
deeps, she must go down, and be swallowed up in this vortex 
of destruction. 

It is not every unclean thing that offends the sight: while 
the slightest stain upon some things will excite in us deep 
dislike ; the feeling depends entirely upon the nature of the 



SOUL. 



493 



thing, and the purpose to which it is applied. We pass by 
an unclean stone unnoticed ; it is unconscious of its state, 
and meant to be trampled under foot. But rising a step 
higher in the scale of creation, to an unclean plant, we be- 
come conscious of a slight emotion of dislike ; because we 
see that which might have pleased the eye, and have beau- 
tified a spot in the creation, disfigured and useless. An un- 
clean animal creates our dislike still more, for, instead of 
proving useful in any way, it is merely a moving pollution. 
But an unclean human being excites our loathing more 
than all ; it presents our nature in a light so disgusting that 
it lessens our pity for him, if he be miserable, and excites in 
us ideas of disease, contamination, and pain. But an unclean 
spirit — it is loathsome above all things, it is the soul and 
essence of pollution, it is the most unclean object in the 
universe, it is the spectacle which excites the deep dislike 
of God himself. His dislike of it is the more intense, because 
originally it was pure, and capable of making perpetual ad- 
vances towards divine perfection ; whereas now it presents 
itself to his eye. robbed of all its purity, and defiled in all its 
powers, a fountain of pollution. 

We see the power of God employed in bringing about 
events of the first importance from mere minutiae. In the 
little tiny seed we can but ill descry the beauteous or stately 
tree which is to spring from it. Had we never known the 
beauties of a full-blown rose, we could not foretell from look- 
ing on the bud the future splendour of the flower, nor trace 
the blaze of a meridian day in a morning sky. So when 
we consider the soul in her feeble state, disfigured and de- 
faced, and with but little of heaven's comeliness upon it — 
we could never anticipate, from its close alliance with a 
perishing body, that " this corruptible shall put on incor- 
raption," and the soul shine forth in all the glories of 
the divine image. 



494 



TIIE SACRAMENT. 



Sacrament. 

As by a ring, or a meaner instrument of conveyance, a 
man may be settled in land, or put into an office, and by 
such conveyance the ratification of such grants is said to 
be real ; how much more so is the gift and receipt of Christ's 
body and blood, when conveyed unto us by the confirmation 
of the eternal Spirit ! For observe, " it is the same Spirit" 
that is in Christ, and that is in us, and we are " quickened 
by one and the same Spirit." Therefore it cannot choose 
but that a real union must follow between Christ and us ; as 
there is a union between all the parts of the body by the 
animation of one soul. 

There are many instances that are pregnant to prove how 
pieces of something broken and divided into many shares 
do import a communication of somewhat among the dividers. 
The heathen, at the making of a league, did now and then 
break a flint-stone to pieces ; and they that entered into a 
league, kept the parts in token of a covenant. Some upon 
a contract of marriage will break a piece of gold, and the 
two halves are reserved by the contractors. Shall I go fur- 
ther, and yet come nearest to the case 1 The Roman soldiers 
parted our Saviour's garment among them, and in that sym- 
bolical accident is shown that the gentiles should share in 
the satisfaction of his death. So the believer takes this 
morsel of bread. The same ticket, in words, in substance, 
is put into every hand, on which is written, "Take, and eat 
in remembrance of me." 

The flesh of the sacrifice at the consecration of the priests, 
with the meat-offering annexed to it, was divided between 
God, and them ; we eat with God, and God with us. A table 
was furnished with shew-bread only to be looked at, but to 
our table all Christians are invited guests, and to them it is 
said, " Eat, O friends ;" they could give but a sight ; the 
Gospel the enjoyment of it, and a hearty welcome. 

It is an acknowledgment to us, by the Deity, of a perfect 
equivalence, a sufficiently valuable consideration for our 



THE SACRAMENT. 



495 



blessedness having been accepted on our behalf. It is show- 
ing us the receipt in full, with the value received, for our 
transgressions, sins, and iniquities. Or, rather, it is a deli- 
very into our hands, and into our keeping, as it were, of such 
receipts. For we are not only to behold the broken bread, 
and effused wine, but to take them, to eat the one and drink 
the other. 

The salvation purchased by Christ is " a common salva- 
tion," of which we cannot partake but by joining with the 
church or body of men to whom that privilege was granted : 
we can receive no influence from the head except we are 
members of the body, and join in those outward actions, the 
sacraments and prayers, by which communion with Christ 
we are all one body, because we are really partakers of the 
same bread, and the same cup of blessing. Every branch 
of a tree must be sapless and perish, if it be not duly and 
properly incorporated with the body of the tree. Will a 
man say he is of the household of God, who never eats the 
bread of God in his house, and with his family? 

It is undeniable that as sacraments are " generally neces- 
sary to salvation," whoever continues to live in the wilful 
neglect of the Lord's supper is under condemnation. He 
cannot be Christ's disciple, for he denies him in the world. 
He presumptuously breaks one of God's commandments, and 
is therefore guilty as a transgressor of the whole law. But 
it is not merely the bare refusal of this sacrament, but the 
secret disposition and state of heart which such a neglect 
discovers — and of which it is the infallible mark, which 
proves his pretension to religion to be vain. Take the case 
of a man in whom the process of inward mortification is 
going on. This is not visible, and is altogether hid from gene- 
ral observation. But the black and livid spots on the limb 
distinctly mark the fatal disorder within. The patient's 
attention is confined to the part which is affected, and he 
little dreams of its connexion with the work of death which 
is going forwards. But to the experienced eye the fatal 
process is fully disclosed by that little spot of livid flesh. It 
would not be there if mortification was not present. To the 
continued and resolute refusal to sup with Christ, though to 



496 



THE SACRAMENT. 



the party himself, and to others, it may appear a venial mat- 
ter, and to he accounted only as the neglect of one of the 
ordinances of the church, yet, in the judgment of all who 
are taught of God, it is indicative of a fatally disordered 
state of the heart— it marks the universal indisposition to 
assume that sacred badge of discipleship and separation 
from the world. It proves the disaffection and disloyalty to 
Christ's government and institutions which reigns within, 
and that something is loved and cherished as better than 
obedience and love to the Saviour. For in the case under 
consideration, it is no other than an indisposition to com- 
mit ourselves by giving a pledge that we design that high 
and holy walk in life which belongs to Christ's disciples. 
We would not come under such a yoke. And just as there 
would be no living marks in the case supposed, where there 
was no mortification — so there would be no wilful refusal of 
the holy supper, were the disposition of our heart in a sound 
and healthy state. In both of these cases the process of 
death is going forwards. 

All men speak honourable things of the sacrament, except 
wicked persons and the scorners of religion : and though of 
several persons, like the beholders of a dove walking in 
the sun, as they stand in several aspects and distances, some 
see red and others purple, and yet some perceive nothing 
but green, but all allow and love the beauties ; so do the 
several forms of Christians, according as they are instructed 
by their first teachers, or their own experience, conducted by 
their fancy, and proper principle, look upon these glorious 
mysteries, some as virtually containing the reward of obe- 
dience ; some as solemnities of thanksgiving, and records of 
blessings ; some as the objective increase of faith; others as 
the sacramental participations of Christ ; others as the acts 
and instruments of natural union ; yet all afnrrn some great 
things or other of it, and by their differences confess the 
immensity and the glory. For thus manna represented to 
every man the taste that himself did like; but it had in its 
own potentiality all those tastes and dispositions eminently 
and altogether ; it could speak of great and many excellen- 
ces, and all confessed it to be enough, and to be the food of 



THE SACRAMENT. 



497 



angels ; so it is here, it is that to every man's faith, which 
his faith wisely apprehends; and though there are some of 
little faith, and such receive but a less proportion of nourish- 
ment, yet by the very use of this sacrament, the appetite will 
increase, and the apprehensions grow greater, and the faith 
will be more confident and instructed ; and then we shall 
see more and feel more. 

This holy nutriment is not only food, but physic too ; and 
although to him who believes great things of his physician 
and of his medicine, it is apt to do the more advantage, yet 
it will do its main work. 

They who receive the blessed sacrament must not suppose 
that the blessings of it are effected as health is by physic, 
or warmth by the contact and neighbourhood of fire ; but as 
music one way affects the soul, and witty discourses ano- 
ther, and joyful tidings a way differing from both the former, 
so the operations of the sacrament are produced by an energy 
of a nature entirely differing from all things else. But 
however it is done, the thing that is clone is this ; no grace 
is there improved but what we bring along with us ; no in- 
creases but what we exercise. 

A deed is an instrument which makes over, and gives a title 
to another to a possession of certain propriety. A kind 
benefactor designs to bestow upon you a valuable estate, and 
a deed of gift, or the title-deeds, must be given in your pos- 
session. Without this you have no legal instrument to 
make good your claims to it. The next heir or some rela- 
tive may hereafter dispute it with you for want of that which 
can alone substantiate your right to the possession. The 
kindness and intentions of your benefactor that you should 
enjoy it may be most undeniable — but one thing is wanting, 
a deed of conveyance, and in the eye of the law you have 
no written title to it more than another. Such is the sacra- 
ment of the Lord's supper, which instrumentally makes 
over to the believers the blessings of his Lord. As a deed 
is capable of transferring property to the vastest amount, so 
this simple institution makes over to the parties concerned 
the most transcendent blessings. " Take, eat, drink ye all 
(my children) of this" — take possession of, receive this 

K K 



498 



THE SACRAMENT. 



pledge of your title to an interest in all that I have to bestow. 
With my body and blood I make over to you all the pur- 
chase of my death and merits. But what of those who 
reject it? " Behold ye despisers, and wonder, and perish." 
Where is the pledge of your interest in a Saviour's merits ? 
" Verily, verily I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the 
Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you." 
And how can ye pretend to eat it by faith, when ye reject 
the very ordinance which was instituted to make over a 
formal conveyance of a Saviour's body and blood to those 
who prove their " love to him by keeping his command- 
ments." If he who neglected the regular observance of the 
passover was to be cut off from the people of Israel and 
perish, what better fate can await him who turns his back 
on an institution so much greater than the passover, as the 
blood of Christ exceeds in value the blood of a lamb ? — 
What title can he have, any more than the ancient Israelite, 
to the benefits of God's chosen people ! 

There is much water in the well or spring-head ; it comes 
to us in leaden pipes or wooden troughs. Now what is the 
leaden pipe, or wooden trough more than another ? No- 
thing at all ; it is the water in the pipe or trough that 
makes them esteemed above others. It is true, they can do 
more than others ; if you look upon them in their use, i. e. 
to convey the water unto us, then they are more excellent 
than all others whatsoever. So in the Sacraments of Bap- 
tism, and the Lord's Supper, there is water in the one, and 
bread and wine, in the other : yet what is this water, this 
bread and wine more than any other ? Are not they the 
same we have at home ? Yea ; O but if we look upon them 
as ordained of God to convey his mercies into our hearts, to 
seal unto our souls the remission of sins, &c, and that God 
hath set them aside to that end and purpose, then they are 
more excellent than any other water, bread, or wine possibly 
can be. — Spencer. 

An instrument or conveyance of lands from one party to 
another, being fairly engrossed in parchment, with wax 
fastened upon it, is no more than ordinary parchment and 
wax ; but when it comes once to be sealed and delivered to 



THE SACRAMENT. 



499 



the use of the party concerned, then it is changed into ano- 
ther quality, and made a matter of high concernment. Thus 
the elements of bread and wine are the same in substance 
with the other bread and wine, before and after the admi- 
nistration is passed, the same in quality, the bread dry, the 
wine moist ; the same in nature, the bread to support, the 
wine to comfort the heart of man ; but being once separated 
(not by any spells, or signing with the sign of the cross ; not 
by any popish, carnal, sensual translation, nor any Lutheran 
consubstantiation) from a common to a holy use ; when 
Christ's name is set on them, in regard of institution, conse- 
cration, operation, and blessing attending on them ; then 
they become Christ's bread and God's wine, and the table 
God's table too : not the bread of the buttery, but of the 
sanctuary ; not the wine of the grape only, but of the Vine 
Christ Jesus, sealing upon us the pardon and remission of 
our sins. So that in the right receiving thereof, we must 
make it a work not so much to look on the elements what 
they are, but what they signify ; look through the bush, and 
see God through the sacrament, and see Christ J esus to our 
comfort. — Ibid. 

It is an expression of the apostle, " consider the Lord 
Jesus," let not your views be sudden, transient glances, 
which do no good ; but represent the Lord Jesus before your 
eyes in a serious, solemn manner. Kings do many times 
represent their own persons in the broad seal ; they sit upon 
a throne sceptered and the like ; so Christ in the sacrament 
(which is the seal of heaven) represents his own person. 
There is only this difference, the picture of a king is a dead 
representation; but the Lord Christ in the sacrament is 
most livelily, and efficaciously represented to the soul. 

The peace of God in the sacraments and other means of 
grace is usually a blessing upon our endeavours : for spiritual 
graces and the blessings of sanctification do not grow like 
grass, but like corn — not whether we do any husbandry or 
no ; but if we cultivate the ground, then, by God's bless- 
ing, the fruit will spring and make the farmer rich. 

As by faith we have the evidence, so by the sacrament 
we have the presence of things farthest distant and absent 

k k 2 



500 



THE SACRAMENT. 



from us. A man that looks on the light through a shadow 
cloth truly and really receive the self-same light which he 
would in the openest and clearest sunshine, though after a 
different manner. 

The sin-offerings under the law were entirely consumed 
in their consecration to divine justice, and no part was 
designed to be eaten by the offerer ; to signify their imper- 
fection and inefhcacy to reconcile God to sinners, and to 
bestow life. The beasts by substitution suffered death for 
those who offered them, but could not purchase life for 
them. Our Saviour is as truly given to us to communicate 
life, as he was given for us in his death. When he offered 
himself the most solemn sacrifice on the cross, he was not 
consumed ; the ordinance of the Lord's Supper is not there- 
fore a naked sign of his sufferings for us, but presents to us 
his body and blood as a feast of love upon his sacrifice, that 
the soul may live for ever. The blood of the Lamb, the true 
vine, has rejoiced the heart of God and man ! 

When pagans beheld Christians receiving the blessed 
sacrament, and observed with what reverence and devotion 
they demeaned themselves in that holy business, one was 
inquisitive what that action meant. It was answered by 
one of the Christians, that God having first emptied their 
hearts of all their sins, as pride, envy, covetousness, conten- 
tion, luxury, and the rest, did now enter into them himself 
with a purpose to dwell there. He was silent for the pre- 
sent, but followed and watched them whom he saw to be 
communicants in that action for two days together; and 
perceiving some of them to fall into quarrels, uncleanness, 
drunkenness, and so on, he declared his censure of them 
with this exclamation, " I confess that your religion be good, 
your devotion good, your profession good, but sure your 
hospitality is slack enough that you will not give your God 
two days' lodging." Here now was a sad occasion for the 
enemies of God to judge of them that seem to make pro- 
fession of his holy name. This is the shame of Christians, 
the disparagement of religion ; when it is forced against the 
nature of it to encourage lewdness, 'tis an abuse of the 
promised grace of the covenants and pledges of grace, which 



TEMPTATIONS. 



501 



are the sacraments, when encouragements to evil are derived 
froin so merciful an indulgence. — Spencer. 



temptations. 

The surest way to conquer is sometimes to decline a battle, 
to weary out the enemy by keeping him at bay. Fabius 
Maximus did not use this stratagem more successfully 
against Hannibal than a Christian may against his peculiar 
vice, if he be but watchful of his advantages. It is danger- 
ous to provoke an unequal enemy to the fight, or to run into 
such a situation where we cannot expect to escape without 
a disadvantageous encounter. 

Worms, and other insects, take up their habitation under 
the surface of the earth. A plot of ground may be out- 
wardly verdant with grass, and decorated with flowers. But 
take a spade in your hand, and turn up the mould, and you 
soon have a sample of the vermin that lurks beneath. 
Temptation is the spade which breaks up the ground of a 
believer's heart, and helps to discover the corruptions of his 
fallen nature. 

There is a vast difference between the sight of a storm at 
sea, and a ship in violent agitation by the winds and waves, 
and the miserable passengers with pale affrighted counte- 
nances expecting present death, in a lively picture, and 
being in a real ship, in the midst of a real tempest, and in 
actual danger of being swallowed up by the ocean. The 
sight of such a spectacle without fear, is but painted courage, 
as the object upon which 'tis exercised. If one should pre- 
sume his heart were impenetrable to fear, because he sees 
the representation of extreme danger without fear, it were 
egregious folly, and would be soon confuted if he were actu- 
ally in extreme danger of perishing in the raging sea. Thus 
there is a great difference between temptations represented 
in our thoughts, and when immediately and really before us ; 
and between religious resolutions when temptations are at a 
distance, and when actually incumbent on us. There may 



502 



TEMPTATIONS. 



be such resolutions conceived in the mind in the absence of 
temptations, that we may think ourselves guarded safely 
against our sins ; and yet, at the first encounter of a strong 
temptation, our resolution may cool and faint, and our vows 
of obedience may vanish as the morning clew before the heat 
of the sun. 

Set a narrow-mouthed glass near to a bee-hive, and you 
may soon perceive how busily the wasps resort to it, being- 
drawn to it by the smell of sweet liquor, wherewith it is 
baited ; and how eagerly they creep into the mouth of it, 
and fall down suddenly from that slippery steepiness into 
that watery trap, from which they can never rise ; but after 
some vain labours and weariness, they drown and die. Now 
there are none of the bees that as much as look that way, 
they pass directly to their hive, without any notice taken of 
such a pleasing bait. Thus idle and ill-disposed persons are 
easily drawn away with every temptation ; they have both 
leisure and will to entertain every sweet allurement to sin, 
and wantonly prosecute their own wicked lusts, till they 
fall into irrecoverable destruction ; whereas, the diligent and 
laborious Christian that follows hard and conscionably the 
works of an honest calling, is free from the danger of those 
deadly enticements, and lays up honey of comfort against 
the winter of evil. — Spencer. 

As the fly that plays about the candle often doth burn its 
wings at the last ; so the Christian who parleys with temp- 
tation, is in danger of having the wings of his soul so 
shortened by the furious darts of Satan, that he will not be 
able to rise again towards heaven, till God shall send him 
renewed affections. 

To every thing there is a season. Eccl. iii. 1 . A hundred 
soldiers at one time may turn a battle, save 1 an army, when 
thousands will not do it at another. So Satan knows when 
to make his approaches, when (if at any time) he is most 
likely to be entertained. 



THOUGHTS. 



603 



&j)ougj[)ts. 

As in the world we frequently meet with bad company, 
so in solitude we are often troubled with impertinent and 
unprofitable thoughts, as well as entertained with agreeable 
and useful ones. And a man that hath so far lost the com- 
mand of himself, as to lie at the mercy of every foolish 
or vexing thought, is much in the same situation as a host 
whose house is open to all comers, whom, though ever so 
noisy, rude, and troublesome, he cannot get rid of ; how- 
ever, with this difference, that the latter hath some recom- 
pense for his trouble, the former none at all, but is robbed 
of his peace and quiet for nothing. 

We should intermix holy thoughts with all that we do ; 
this were to walk with God indeed : to go all the day long- 
as in our Father's hand : whereas, without this, our praying 
morning and evening looks but as a formal visit, not de- 
lighting in that constant converse which yet is our happi- 
ness and honour, and makes all estates sweet. This 
would refresh us in the hardest labour ; as they that carry 
spices from Arabia are refreshed with the smell of them in 
their journey ; and some observe that it keeps their strength, 
and frees from fainting. 

The thoughts of spiritual things, are with many as guests 
that come into an inn, and not like children that dwell 
in the house: they enter occasionally, and there is a great 
ado to provide for them proper entertainment. Presently 
they depart, and are not looked or inquired after any more : 
things of another nature are attended to, and new occasions 
bring in new guests for a season. So it is with those 
occasional thoughts about spiritual things. But those that 
are genuine and natural, arising from a living and internal 
spring, they dispose the mind to them, like children living 
in the house ; they are expected at their places and sea- 
sons, and if they are missing, they are inquired after; 
the soul calls itself to account, why it is that it has been 



504 



THOUGHTS. 



so long without them, and summons them to its wonted 
converse and fellowship. 

An angler having baited his hook, throws it into the 
water ; the fish having espied the bait, after two or three 
vagaries about it, nibbles at it, and after a while swallows 
clown the bait, hook and all. The fisher sees none of all 
this; but by the sinking of the cork he knows that the 
fish is taken. Thus Satan (though a most cunning angler) 
knows not the thoughts of men, such as are mere pure 
thoughts, that's God's peculiar, it is He that searcheth the 
heart, and trieth the reins ; but if we write or speak, if the 
cork do but stir, if our countenance do but change, he is 
of such perspicuity, and so well experienced withal, that 
he will soon know what our thoughts are, and suit his temp- 
tations accordingly. — Spencer. 

There is a difference between good thoughts that ascend 
from the frame of our hearts, and those that are injected 
from without. For instance, a gracious man's holy thoughts 
ascend from the spiritual frame that is within his soul; 
but now a wicked man may have holy thoughts cast into 
him as a flash of lightning in the night, which doth 
not make a clay ; neither cloth the injection of some holy 
thoughts argue the frame of his heart spiritual and holy. 
When he hath been hearing a warm sermon, then he 
thinks with himself, heaven deserves his choice, and eager 
pursuits; this is but from without, and therefore doth 
not argue that he is spiritual. 

Regeneration changeth the frame of our thoughts, and 
maketh us to mount upwards. Gracious souls are disposed 
for it ; what Christ spake concerning leaven in the gospel, 
it raiseth the meal and swells it ; so when grace is put into 
thy soul, it insinuates itself into thy thoughts, into thy 
discourse, into thy actions. Those that are regenerated 
can in some measure perform their duties naturally and 
easily ; it is as easy for the flame to ascend as for a stone to 
descend. A vine doth with as much ease produce grapes 
as a thistle or a thorn doth prickles ; and, therefore, thy 
heart may produce spiritual meditations with almost as 
much ease as a carnal man shall produce sensual, corrupt, 



TRUTH. 



505 



vile thoughts, if thou dost not injure the divine nature, but 
exercise it in sending up holy thoughts towards God. 



In the body of man, one member will not lie to another ; 
the hand will not lie in telling what it toucheth ; the 
tongue will not lie in telling what it tasteth ; the eye will 
not lie in telling what it seeth ; but every member is a true 
witness to another, a true witness to his neighbour. And 
thus it should be in a body politic of government and so- 
ciety, in the mystical body of the church and Christianity, 
that seeing we are members one with another, every one 
should speak the truth to his neighbour ; and such should 
be the case of those especially, as profess Christianity, as to 
lose their breath, rather than to use their breath, in speak- 
ing any untruth to another.— Spencer. 

Fancy draws a copy of those objects that are perceived 
by the external senses, or compounds many copies together, 
but - creates no images of things not perceptible by the 
senses. We can imagine mountains of gold, because we 
have seen gold and mountains : we conceive monstrous 
mixtures in dreams ; but no actors can appear on the 
theatre of fancy, but in borrowed habits from sensible 
things. But the objects of faith are such things, as eye 
hath not seen, nor ear heard, and transcend the capacity of 
the imagination to conceive, and of the external senses to 
represent : yet infidels blaspheme the eternal truths of divine 
things as the fictions of fancy. 

Reason corrects the errors of sense, faith reforms the 
j udgment of reason, The stars seem but glittering points ; 
but reason convinces us they are vast bodies, by measuring 
the distance that lessens their greatness to our sight. We 
cannot imagine that there are men whose feet are directly 
opposite to ours, and are in no danger of falling : but rea- 
son demonstrates that there are antipodes. 'Tis as absurd 



506 



TIME, 



for reason to reject divine testimony, and violate the sacred 
respect of faith, as for sense to contradict the clearest 
principles of reason. To deny supernatural truths, be- 
cause they are above our conception and capacity, is not 
only against faith, but against reason that acknowledges its 
own imperfection. 



It was day at Jerusalem in Christ's time, at Ephesus in 
St. John's time, at Corinth, Philippi, Sec, in St. Paul's 
time, at Crete in Titus' time, at Alexandria in St. Mark's 
time, at Smyrna in Polycarp's time, at Pergamus in 
Antipas' time, at Antioch in Evodius and Ignatius' time, 
at Constantinople in St. Chrysostom's time, in Hippo in St. 
Augustine's time, &c. It is now night with most of them, 
and yet day with us : Jerusalem had a day, and every 
city, every nation, every church, every congregation, every 
man, hath a day of grace, if he have but grace to take 
notice of it, — hath an accepted time, if he do but accept of 
it, and may find God if he seek him in time ; but if he 
let the sun of righteousness go down, and work not out 
his salvation " whilst it is called to-day," he must look for 
nothing but perpetual darkness, when time will be swal- 
lowed up into eternity, when there will be no time at all. — 
Spencer. 

The condition of those who find themselves at the close 
of one year, and the beginning of another without having 
improved it to the glory of God, is a hopeless one as it 
respects the past. Their case is the case of a prodigal who 
has squandered an estate which he can never redeem. 
Regret and sorrow cannot recover it. It has been spent, 
and nothing remains. It is so with the past, yes — it has 
fled — it has for ever escaped his grasp. Repentance can- 
not recall it. It would have yielded immortal fruits had 
it been cultivated, and its riches would have accom- 



TIME. 



507 



panied hini into eternity. It is a remediless, hopeless case ; 
and even in the event of the future conversion of the 
soul, still that year, and all the preceding ones, are a loss 
that no ingenuity, no tears of penitence can recover. 

Let time be compared with eternity. If we look at the 
reasonings and practice of mankind, we shall find that a 
very small quantity is disregarded, and treated as nothing 
when put in competition with one vastly greater than itself. 
When the difference is very wide, the greater annihilates 
the less in our daily estimation. Thus, in the payment of 
a large sum of money, the odd pence are seldom taken 
notice of, the number of pounds drives them wholly out of 
consideration. A tradesman would consider ten pounds a 
fair discharge of an invoice of ten pounds and three pence 
half-penny, though he might take three pence half-penny 
from the next customer without expecting to abate any 
part of it. This shows that the small sum is not without 
value when taken by itself, that it came to be neglected in 
the first instance, only because it happened to be put in 
comparison with one so much larger than itself. Nor 
must this be attributed to a careless mode of trans- 
acting business, which has somehow or other grown into 
fashion in certain departments of trade, for it is obvious in 
the mathematics, where exactness has become a proverb. 
Certain quantities are often neglected because, in compari- 
son with others, they are indefinitely small ; and if in an 
analytic or algebraic demonstration one of the quantities 
is supposed to become indefinite, all the others, which 
would otherwise have been added to or subtracted from 
it, are considered as vanishing, or become " 0." Now 7 
if we act like men of business or reason, like mathemati- 
cians about time and eternity, we must regard the former, 
when compared with the latter, as the odd pence of a large 
account, or the indefinite small quantity in our calculations. 
This is to be done, not because time, or the life of man, 
is, when taken by itself, inconsiderable, but because what- 
ever is transcribed here vanishes when laid in the balance 
with the knowledge of that period, " when that which is in 
part will be done away." Now, it is not the worldling 



508 



TRINITY. 



only, that in reference to spiritual tilings inverts the rule 
established by the reasoning and custom of man, but the 
Christian who daily, in some sort or other, gives up eternity 
for time. 

To infuse a spirit of devotion into all things, this is the 
great art of christian chymistry ; to convert those acts which 
are materially natural or civil into acts truly and formally 
religious, whereby the whole course of this Jife is both 
truly and interpretatively a service to Almighty God, and 
an uninterrupted state of religion ; this is the best, noblest, 
and most universal redemption of time. 



The Father is placed first, and really is the first person, 
not as if he were before the other, for they are all co- 
eternal ; but because the other two receive their essence 
from him ; for the Son was begotten of the Father, and the 
Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son ; 
therefore the Father is termed by primitive Christians the 
root and fountain of Deity. As in water there is the foun- 
tain or well-head, then there is the spring that boils up out 
of the fountain, and then there is the stream that flows 
both from the fountain and the spring, and yet all these 
are but one and the same water ; so here God the Father is 
the fountain of Deity ; the Son as the spring that boils up 
out of the fountain ; and the Holy Ghost the stream that 
flows from both, and yet all these are but one and the same 
God. The same may be also explained by another familiar 
instance. The sun begets the beams, and from the sun and 
beams together proceed both light and heat ; so God the 
Father begets the Son, and from the Father and the Son 
together proceed the Holy Spirit. But as the sun is not 
before the beams, nor the beams before the light and heat, 
but all are together ; so, neither is the Father before the 



UNION. 



509 



Son, nor Father or Son before the Holy Ghost, but only in 
order, and relation one to another. — Spencer. 

The light of the sun, the light of the moon, the light of 
the air, for nature and substance are one and the same 
light ; and yet they are three distinct lights ; the light of 
the sun being of itself, and from none, the light of the moon 
from the sun, and the light of the air from them both ; so 
the divine nature is one, and the persons three, subsisting 
after a diverse manner in one and the same nature.— 
Ibid. 



The least drop of water hath the nature of its element, 
hath the entire properties of it, partakes of the round figure 
of that element, and best agrees with, and unites itself to 
water. In like manner it is with fire, and the rest of the 
elements, being homogeneal bodies, every part doth parti- 
cipate of the name and nature of the whole, shuns what is 
contrary to that nature, and most willingly gathers itself to 
that which is of the same kind. So it is with the true mem- 
bers of that mystical body whereof Christ is the head ; such 
is the union, unanimity, association and fellowship of the 
people of God one amongst another, that they cannot suffer 
themselves to be combined with wicked persons and unbe- 
lievers ; no, they will associate unto themselves none, by 
their good wills, who are not endowed with grace and good- 
ness, and a godly conversation, being the true qualities and 
marks of that true church whereof they themselves are true 
members. — Spencer. 

Melancthon persuading the divided Protestants of his 
time to peace and unity, illustrateth his argument by a 
notable parable of the wolves and dogs, who were marching 
onwards to fight one against another. The wolves, that they 
might the better know the strength of their adversary, sent 
forth a master wolf as their scout. The scout returns, and tells 



510 



UNION. 



the wolves, that indeed the dogs were more in number, but 
yet they should not be discouraged ; for he observed that 
the dogs were not one like another ; a few mastiffs there 
were, but the most were little ones, which could only bark, 
but not bite, and would be afraid of their own shadow. 
Another thing also he observed, which would much encou- 
rage them, and that was, that the dogs did march as if they 
were more offended at themselves than with us ; not keep- 
ing their ranks, but grinning and snarling, and biting and 
tearing one another, as if they would save us a labour. 
And therefore let us march on resolutely, for our enemies 
are their own enemies ; enemies to themselves and their 
own peace, they bite and devour each other, and therefore 
we shall certainly devour them. Though a kingdom or 
church be never so well provided, yet notwithstanding, if 
divisions and heart-burnings get among its members, like a 
spreading gangrene, they will infect the whole ; and like a 
breach made in the walls of a city besieged, they will let in 
the enemy to destroy it. Kay, though there should be a 
kingdom of saints, if differences and distractions get within 
that kingdom, they will, like the worm in Jonah's gourd, 
eat up all the happiness of it in one night. — Ibid. 

Suppose the troops of two different nations which were 
leagued together against the common enemy, should under 
the influence of natural prejudices be continually engaged 
in quarrels. And while they expected to be besieged, in- 
stead of strengthening the outer walls of their fortifications, 
they employed themselves in raising lines of partition to 
keep separate from one another. Their common interests 
must greatly suffer. Let them continue to wear their natu- 
ral costume, and each prefer their own tactics and peculiar 
discipline ; but let them remember that coldness and luke- 
warmness in their efforts to assist each other against the 
enemy, and maintain the cause for which they were enlisted, 
would be sadly betraying the interests of the Sovereign in 
whose services they were engaged. What must we think of 
those individuals who are more intent to draw lines of dis- 
tinction than to agree to differ ? The true soldiers of Jesus 
Christ should hold it necessary to raise and strengthen the 



UNION, 



511 



wall by which Christ's Church is surrounded, and that not 
for the purpose of intercepting the flow of kindness and 
christian philanthropy from within, but for the purpose of 
intercepting the streams of contamination from without. 
The line of partition which obtains between the church and 
the world — the line which measures off the ground of 
vital and evangelical religion from the general ungodliness 
of mere profession, must be preserved and strengthened. 
The latitudinarianism which would pull down one of its 
stones mnst be abhorred as treason. Let an impregnable 
sacreclness be thrown around the people who stand peculiar- 
ized by their devoteclness, and their faith, from the general 
bulk of a species who are of the earth and earthly. There 
are landmarks between the children of light and the children 
of darkness which can never be moved away ; but for the 
lines of partition which have been drawn among themselves, 
let them be utterly swept away. The signals of distinction 
between one party of Christians and another need not be 
put down, but each allowed to wear its own. Bat with zeal 
for essentials, they must tolerate each other in the circum- 
stantials of their faith ; and under all the variety which they 
wear, whether of complexion or of outward observance, let 
them recognise the brotherhood of a common doctrine, and 
of the common spirit of Christianity. How else, in thus 
weakening the cause of Christ, can we be free from the 
guilt of disloyalty to our Lord ! What scriptural partition 
has he raised between believers but this for our guidance. — 
"That they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and 
I in thee , that they also may be one in us ; that the world 
may believe that thou hast sent me." 

L T nion is power. The most attenuated thread when 
sufficiently multiplied will form the strongest cable. A 
single drop of water is a weak and powerless thing ; but an 
infinite number of drops united by the force of attraction 
will form a stream ; and many streams combined will form 
a river; till rivers pour their waters into the mighty ocean, 
whose proud waves defying the power of man none can stay 
but He who formed them. And thus forces, which acting 
singly are utterly impotent, are, when acting in combination 



512 



UNION. 



resistless in their energies, mighty in power. And when 
this great union of the several powers of the Church shall 
be brought to bear unitedly on one point, its triumph will 
be the subjection of a world to Christ which now defers the 
solitary efforts of single forces. 

An apparent union may be produced by none thinking at 
all, as well as by all thinking alike ; but such an union, as 
Leighton observes, is not produced by the active heat of the 
spirit, but is a confusion rather arising from the want of it : 
not a fusing together, but a freezing together, as cold con- 
oreo;ates all bodies how heterogeneous soever, sticks, stones, 
and water : but heat makes first a separation of different 
things, and then unites those that are of the same nature. 

All bodies consist of infinitely small particles of matter, 
each of which possesses the power of attracting or drawing 
towards it, and uniting with any other particle sufficiently 
near to be within the influence of its attraction. But in 
minute particles this power extends to so very small a dis- 
tance around them, that its effect is not sensible unless they 
are (or at least appear to be) in contact ; it then makes them 
stick or adhere together, and is hence called the attraction 
of cohesion. So is it with the members of Christ's body, 
they must be brought into contact one with another, in order 
to unite cordially together. The graces of God's image in 
the soul possess but little power of attraction at a distance, 
we must come nigh to them if we would come within the 
influence of their attraction ; they will only be recognised 
and felt in the communion of the saints. 

The strength of a body will be generally in proportion as 
the particles of bodies are more closely united; for this 
reason, it is greater in solid bodies than in fluids. So union 
is strength, and the more closely the members are united 
one with another, the stronger will be the body both for 
warfare and defence. 

The particles of air are not destitute of the power of 
attraction, but they are too far distant from each other to 
be influenced by it, and human effort has hitherto failed in 
the attempt to compress them, and bring them within the 
sphere of each other's attraction. In like manner, like these 



vows. 



513 



particles of air, the various widely scattered members of 
Christ's body are not destitute of powers mutually to attract 
each other together in love, but they are too far distant 
from each other to experience the power of this attraction — 
it is the want of communion. But unlike these vain attempts 
to compress the particles of air in one, the Saviour, who 
prayed that they might be one, shall one day unite them in 
the bonds of perfect indivisibility in a new world of love. 



" Better it is that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou 
shouldest vow t , and not pay." Ecc. v. 5. God is mocked by 
an oath, and a covenant when it is not observed. A man 
that refuses to be listed does not meet with the like punish- 
ment as he that runs from his colours ; so he that never came 
under the oath of God does not sin so much as he that has 
sworn to his covenant. That which is but simple fornication 
in the Gentiles — in Christians it is adultery — breach of vow. 

We are commonly like Antigonus' sick soldier, that 
fought well because he looked to die, but grew a coward as 
soon as he was cured. We have need of the counsel which 
the Bishop of Colen gave the Emperor Sigismond, who asked 
him what he should do to be happy : " Live as you promised 
to do when you were last sick of the stone or gout." 

An infant (says an old law writer) being born to an 
estate of inheritance cannot actually take possession, but 
according to an ancient custom was carried to some part of 
the land in the nurse's or some other's arms, where the 
guardian of the child took livery and seisin for its use, and 
promises fealty to do such service as the premises were bound 
to; all which the heir (though but then an infant) was 
fully to make good when he comes to years of discretion. 
Thus in the sacrament of baptism, the child is conditionally 
received into the congregation of Christ's flock ; but the 
godfathers and godmothers, answering to the stipulation of 



514 



WATCHFULNESS. 



tlie church proposed unto them, and undertaking on the 
child's part, the child coming to years of understanding, is 
engaged to perform it, in as full a manner to all intents and 
purposes, as if it had been able to have answered for itself. 
— Spencer. 

You may see a man intent in pursuing his schemes, whe- 
ther of business or pleasure, continue, from time to time, to 
give bills and promissory notes, reckless of the da}^ of pay- 
ment — until at last ruin seizes her victim. So will it be 
with those who (forgetful, and reckless of their vows) con- 
tinue to run into debt with God. 



A believer's watchfulness is somewhat like that of a soldier 
on guard. A sentinel posted on the walls, when he dis- 
covers an hostile party advancing, does not attempt to make 
head against them himself ; but informs his commanding 
officer of the enemy's approach, and leaves him to take the 
proper measures to repel the foe. So the Christian does not 
attempt to fight temptation in his own strength ; his watch- 
fulness lies in observing its approach, and in telling God of 
it by prayer. 

Watchfulness against sin in a Christian is like watching 
lest a man cut his finder. Wise men do not often cut their 
fingers, yet every day they use a knife ; and a man's eye is 
a tender thing, and everything can do it wrong, and every- 
thing can put it out ; yet, because we love our eyes so well, 
in the midst of so many dangers, by God's providence, and a 
prudent natural care, by winking when anything comes 
against them, and by turning aside when a blow is offered, 
they are preserved so certainly that not one man in ten 
thousand does, by a stroke, lose one of his eyes in all his 
lifetime. If we would transplant our natural care to a 
spiritual caution, we might, by God's grace, be kept from 
losing our souls, as we are from losing our eyes ; and because 



WATCHFULNESS. 



515 



a perpetual watchfulness is our great defence, and the 
perpetual presence of God's grace is our great security, and 
that this grace never leaves us unless we leave it, and the 
precept of a daily watchfulness is a thing not only so rea- 
sonable, but so many easy ways to be performed, — we see 
upon what terms we may be quit of our sins, and more than 
conquerors over all the enemies and impediments of salva- 
tion. 

There are some musical instruments that seem to stand 
all weathers — nothing seems to derange them ; there are 
others that alteration of weather sensibly affects ; but there 
are some which are put out of tune by a breath of wind, 
and these must be kept with the greatest care. So we see 
some professors, who fearlessly brave all temptations, and 
feel no reluctance to encounter every rude shock ; nothing 
seems to move them — good reason, when their consciences 
are hardened, and in a state of almost insensibility. There 
are others who, while they live unconscious of the thousand 
lesser evils of the inner man, yet show much feeling under a 
sore temptation, or the manifestation of an evil temper. 
There are a few blessed ones who shrink from the smallest 
contact with evil, with a conscience sensitive as the apple 
of the eye. How carefully do they guard themselves from 
every rough wind, and the breathings of infections around 
them ! In proportion as they attain to spirituality of mind, 
there is a sensitiveness of conscience. In this case a wrong 
principle, a wrong word, yea, even a bad tone of voice, will 
occasion more grief than many of their erring brethren will 
feel for bad actions and palpable worldliness; and, oh ! a 
close, careful walk with God is the only appointed means 
for keeping our instrument in proper tune. 

It is but the act of common wisdom to be sober and vi° i- 
lant, when we are exposed to dangers on every hand from 
the numerous temptations to sin, which lie so thick around 
us. To be thoughtless and indifferent here, is like one who 
should be careless how he steered his vessel, and secure as 
if he were in a safe sea, while shoals and rocks were around 
him, and the sea was strewed with wrecks. But especially 
must we direct our care to prevent our being surprised 



516 



WATCH FULNESS. 



against the sins that so easily encompass us, whereby we 
ha ve been often foiled. If a besieged city has one part of the 
walls weaker, and more liable to be taken, care will be 
taken to strengthen it, and double the guards there. 

The old principle still remains within, and if we be not 
constantly on our guard, it will regain its former ascendency 
over us. A stronger army, if the sentinels fall asleep, may 
be surprised, and vanquished by troops that are far inferior. 
We, too, notwithstanding the power given us by the indwell- 
ing spirit, shall surely be overcome, if we are not con- 
stantly on our watch-tower. — " Watch and pray." 

Sleep levels all ; the wise man then is no wiser than a 
fool to project for his safety ; nor the strong man better than 
the weak to defend himself : if slumber fall once upon the 
eye, it is night with thee, and thou art, though the best of 
saints, but as other men, so far as this sleep prevails on 
thee. 

The Christian's work is too various to be done between 
sleeping and waking, and too important to be done ill, and 
slurred over, no matter how. He had need be awake that 
walks on the brink of a deep river, or a brow of a steep hill . 
The Christian's path is so narrow, and the danger is so great, 
that calls for both a minute eye to discern, and steady eye to 
direct ; but a sleepy eye can do neither. Look upon any 
duty or grace, and you will find it lie between Scylla and 
Charybdis, two extremes alike dangerous. 

Watchfulness is more needful for the christian soldier than 
any other, because other soldiers fight with men that need 
sleep as well as themselves ; but the Christian's grand enemy 
Satan is ever awake, and walking his rounds, seeking whom 
he may surprise. And if Satan be always awake, it is dan- 
gerous for the Christian at any time to be spiritually asleep, 
that is, secure and careless. 

Sometimes thou art not so wakeful to discover the en- 
croachments of sin upon thee as formerly. At one time we 
find David's heart smote him, when he but rent the skirt of 
Saul's garment ; at another time, when his eye glanced on 
Bathsbeba, he takes no such notice of the snare Satan hath 
him in, and so is led from one sin to another ; which plainly 



WARFARE. 



517 



shows that grace in him was heavy-eyed, and his heart not 
in so holy a frame as it had been. If an enemy come up to 
the gates, and the sentinel not so much as give a notice to 
the inhabitants of his approach, it shows he is off his guard 
— either asleep, or worse. If grace were awake, and con- 
science had not contracted some hardness, it would do its 
office. 



Warfare. 



Now the moral impotence in men to vanquish their lusts, 
though it will be no apology at the day of judgment, yet it 
will discourage them from making resistance : for who will 
attempt an impossibility ? Despair of success relaxes the 
active powers, cuts the nerves of our endeavours, and blunts 
the edge of industry. 'Tis related of the West Indians, 
that upon the first incursion of the Spaniards into their 
country, they tamely yielded to their tyranny ; for seeing 
them clad in armour which their spears could not pierce, 
they fancied them to be the children of the sun, invulnerable 
and immortal. But an Indian carrying a Spaniard over the 
water, resolved to try whether he were mortal, and plunged 
him into the river so long that he w T as drowned. From that 
experiment they took courage, and resolved to kill their 
enemies, who were capable of dying, and recover their dear 
liberty, lost by such a foolish conceit. Thus men will lan- 
guish in a worse servitude, if they fancy the lusts of the 
flesh, their intimate enemies, to be inseparable. Fear con- 
geals the spirits, and disables from noble enterprises, which 
hope persuades, and courage executes. Now we have an 
army of conquerors to encourage us in the spiritual war with 
the flesh, the world, and Satan, enemies in combination 
against us. How many saints have preserved themselves 
unspotted from the most alluring temptations ! They were 
not statues, without sensible faculties, they were not without 
a conflict of carnal passions, but by the Holy Spirit sub- 



518 



WARFARE, 



clued tli em ; and though some obtained a clearer victory than 
others, yet all were victorious by divine grace. 

To excite Christians to make serious and hopeful trials for 
the subduing the strongest corruptions, I will select two ex- 
amples of the virtuous heathen, who restrained anger and 
lust, that are the most rebellious passions against the empire 
of the mind. Socrates by natural temper was choleric, yet 
he had so far reduced his passions under the command of 
reason, that upon any violent provocation his countenance 
was more placid and calm, his voice more temperate, and his 
words more obliging : thus by wise counsel and circumspec- 
tion, he obtained a happy victory over himself. The other 
is of young Scipio, the Roman general in Spain, who, when 
a virgin of exquisite beauty was presented to him among 
other captives, religiously abstained from touching her, and 
restored her to the prince to whom she was espoused. How 
do such examples of the poor pagans, who, in the glimmer- 
ings of nature expressed such virtues, upbraid Christians 
who are servants to their corruptions in the light of divine 
revelation ! If by the practice of philosophy they kept 
themselves from the dominion of their carnal appetites, shall 
not Christians, by a supernatural aid, obtain a clearer victory 
over them? 

The Christian's armour must be complete, and that in a 
threefold respect. First he must be armed in every part, 
cap-a-pie, soul and body, the powers of the one, and the 
senses of the other, not any part left naked. A dart may 
fly in at a little hole, like that which brought a message of 
death to Ahab, through the joints of his harness. If all the 
man be armed, and only the eye left without, Satan can 
soon shoot his fire-balls of lust in at that loophole, which 
shall set the whole house on a flame. Eve looked but on 
the tree, and a poisonous dart struck her to the heart. If 
the eye be shut, and the ear be open to corrupt communi- 
cation, Satan will soon assault at this hole ; if all the out- 
ward senses be guarded, and the heart not kept " with all 
diligence," we shall soar by our own thoughts, be betrayed 
into Satan's hands. Our enemies are on every side, and so 
must our armour be on the right hand and on the left. 



WARFARE. 



519 



(2 Cor. vi. 7.) The apostle calls sin an enemy that surrounds 
us. If there be any part of the line unguarded, or weakly 
provided, there Satan falls on ; we see the enemy often enter 
the city on one side, whilst he is beat back on the other, for 
want of care to keep the whole line. Satan divides his 
temptations into several squadrons — one he employs to as- 
sault here, another to storm there. We read of fleshly wick- 
edness and spiritual wickedness : whilst thou repellest Satan 
tempting thee to fleshly wickedness, he may be entering the 
city at the other gate of spiritual wickedness. Perhaps 
thou hast kept thy integrity by the practical part of thy 
life, but what armour hast thou to defend thy head, thy 
judgment? Thus we see what need we have of universal 
armour in regard of every part. 

Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, as he was passing on 
the way, espied a boy with a bird tied in a string to a stone ; 
the bird was still taking wing to fly away, but the stone 
kept her down : the holy man made good use of this sight, 
and bursting out into tears, said, " Even so it is betwixt the 
flesh and the spirit, the spirit is willing to mount upwards, 
in heavenly thoughts and contemplations, but the flesh 
keepeth it down, and, if possible, would not admit of the 
least thought of heaven." — Spencer. 

A godly man cannot do that which he would. (Rom. 
vii. 18.) And herein he is like a prisoner that is got out of 
the gaol, who, that he might escape the hands of the keeper, 
desires and strives with all his heart to run a hundred miles 
in a day, but by reason of the heavy bolts and fetters that 
hang on his heels, cannot for his life creep past a mile or 
twain, and that too with chafing his flesh, and tormenting 
himself. And thus it is that the servants of God do heartily 
desire and endeavour to run in the ways of God's command- 
ments, as it is said of that good king Josias, to serve God 
with all their heart. (2 Kings xxiii. 25.) Yet because they 
are clogged with the bolts of the flesh, they perform obe- 
dience very slowly and weakly, with many slips and failings. 
— Ibid. 

If we desire a gauge by which to ascertain the depths of 
our own Christianity, I would say it should be this — the 



520 



WORLD. 



vigour and energy of the warfare in our soul. Dr. Owen 
beautifully remarks, " I should estimate a man's strength 
rather by the burden that he carries, than by the pace that 
he maintains." 

The conflicts of the Christian, " the flesh lusting against 
the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh," continue to the 
end of life, and may be compared to a conflagration which 
is opposed by engines where the supply of water is scarcely 
equal to the demand, and not incessantly followed up. 
Sometimes the fire yields to the well-directed stream, and 
at other times it breaks forth with renewed fury, and seems 
to defy the efforts of those who would arrest its progress. 

Our condition is the state of a daily and dangerous war- 
fare, and many inroads are made by sin, and much hurt is 
clone, and booty carried off : for though in part mortified, 
although our dwelling be within the kingdom of grace, yet 
it is in the borders of it, and hath a dangerous neighbour- 
hood. If we mean to be safe, we must remove into the heart 
of the land, or carry the war farther off. 

Even the warfare which is wrought upon believers by 
their sins and imprudences, is not without its use ; but the 
benefits derived from it are such as nature gains by the com- 
motion of the elements in a storm, violent and destructive, 
though purifying : not like those which the earth receives 
from the fertilising and refreshing shower, or from the 
beams of the bright and genial sunshine of each warm and 
cloudless day. 



What a diminutive figure would our earth make, if seen 
from the sun by eyes so constructed as ours ! It would 
appear a million of times smaller than the sun now seems to 
us : it would be hardly, if at all, visible. Why is the sun no 
larger in our sight ? Because of our extreme distance from 
it. The earth, why so large ? Because we are resident 



WORLD, 



521 



upon it. And wherefore, 0 my soul, are the glorious 
things of God, and the important concerns of futurity, no 
greater in thy view? Because the remains of original cor- 
ruption will keep thee at too great a distance from thy Lord, 
and hinder thee from seeing eternal realities in the momen- 
tous light they deserve. Why do the perishing interests of 
time appear so great? Because we are immediately conver- 
sant with them, and they have naturally too deep a place in 
our vile affections. Milton represents the seraph Uriel as 
dwelling in the sun. Was this, in a spiritual sense, our case ; 
were our hearts right with God, and could we constantly 
walk in the near, uninterrupted light of his blessed coun- 
tenance, how would the world dwindle in our esteem ; what 
a speck, what a comparative nothing would it appear ! 

A Christian, too conversant with people of the world, 
resembles a bright piece of plate too much exposed to the 
air ; which, though in reality it continues plate still, yet 
grows tarnished, and loses its fine burnish, and needs a 
fresh cleansing and rubbing up. 

Suppose that, in travelling through a wilderness, a spa- 
cious garden should burst upon your view, in the midst of 
which is a splendid palace. Upon entering it, you perceive 
in every apartment proofs of the agency of some living 
person, though you see none. Complicated machinery is 
moving, and various occupations are carried on ; but still 
the agent who produces these effects is invisible. Would 
you be the less convinced that they were produced by some 
intelligent agent ? Now you have the same proof of the 
existence of God in his works, that you would have in the 
case I have supposed, of the existence and presence of some 
invisible agent ; and it is just as unreasonable to doubt of 
his existence, as it would be to doubt whether the palace 
had been built by any person, or was only the work of 
chance. Suppose you were informed, by a writing on the 
wall, that the palace was inhabited, or haunted by spirits 
who were constantly watching your conduct, and who had 
power to punish you, if it displeased them ; and that you 
were also informed at the same time of the course of con- 
duct which it would be necessary to pursue, in order to 



522 



WORLD. 



obtain their approbation. How careful would you be to 
observe the rules, and how fearful of displeasing* those pow- 
erful spirits ! And if you were further informed, that these 
were the spirits of your deceased parents, and that they 
were able to hear if you addressed them, how delightful it 
would be to go and tell them of your wants and sorrows, 
and feel sure that they listened to you with sympathy and 
compassion ! I tell you, this world is haunted, if I may so 
express it, — haunted by the eternal Spirit. He has given 
you rules by which to regulate your conduct, and is able to 
punish every deviation from them. And can you recollect 
that such a Being is constantly noticing your conduct, and 
still persist in disobeying his commands? God is also 
your heavenly Father ; and why can you not go to him as 
such, with the same confidence which you would exercise 
towards an earthly parent ? 

Men are apt to promise themselves much contentment in 
the fruition of earthly things, like the fool in the parable ; 
and to be herein disappointed is the ground of much vexa- 
tion. When a man travels in a deep way, and sees be- 
fore him a large smooth plain, he presumes that will 
recompense the toil he was formerly put to ; but when he 
comes to it, and finds it as rotten, as full of sloughs, and 
bogs, and quagmires, as his former way, his trouble is the 
more multiplied, because his hopes are deceived. Satan 
and the world beget in men's minds large hopes, and make 
profuse promises to those that will worship them ; and a 
man at a distance sees abundance of pleasure and happiness 
in riches, honours, high places, eminent employments, 
and the like : but when he hath his heart's desire, and 
peradventure hath outclimbed the very modesty of his 
former wishes, hath ventured to break through many a 
hedge, to make gaps through God's law, and his own con- 
science, that he might, by shorter passages, hasten to the 
idol he so much worshipped ; he finds at last, that there was 
more trouble in the fruition, than expectation at the dis- 
tance ; that all this is but like the Egyptian temples, where, 
through a stately frontispiece and magnificent structure, a 
man came, with much preparation of reverence and wor- 



WORLD. 



523 



ship, but to the image of an ugly ape, the ridiculous 
idol of the people. A man comes to the world, as to the 
lottery, with a head full of hopes and projects to get a prize ; 
and returns with a heart full of blanks, utterly deluded in 
his expectation. The world useth a man as ivy doth an 
oak : the closer it gets to the heart, the more it clings and 
twists about the affections ; though it seem to promise and 
natter much, yet it doth indeed but eat out his real sub- 
stance, and choke him in the embraces. 

There are especially certain occasions when the current 
of the world hurries the man away, and he has lost the 
religious government of himself. When the pilot finds, on 
making the port of Messina, that the ship will not obey 
the helm, he knows that she is got within the influence of 
that attraction which will bury her in the whirlpool. We 
are to avoid the danger, rather than to oppose it. This 
is a great doctrine of Scripture. An active force against 
the world is not so much inculcated as a retreating, declining 
spirit. " Keep thyself unspotted from the world." 

There is a thing that the Emperor Caligula is laughed 
at for in all stories. There was a mighty navy provided, 
well manned and victualled ; and every day it was expected 
that the whole country of Greece should have been in- 
vaded, and so it might have been ; but the emperor had 
another design in hand, and employed his soldiers to gather a 
quantity of cockle shells and pebble stones, and so returned 
home again. Just such another voyage do the most of 
men make here in this world, were the particulars but truly 
cast up. God hath given us so much time, he hath furnished 
us with that which may be a means to gain heaven itself : 
now if we lay out this little only about wife, children, or 
to purchase a little wealth, is not this to spend money for 
that which is not bread ? to labour for that which satisfieth 
not? . Is not this the greatest folly that can be ? 

There is a fable how that a wolf, being exceedingly hun- 
gry, came into a tanner's yard, and there espying raw hides 
in the pit, had a great mind to have eaten them, but 
being covered with water could not tell how to come at 
them; and at last he resolves to drink up the water, but 



524 



WORLD. 



after a while lie was so gorged that he had no mind at all to 
the hides. This is the case of all earthly-minded men, 
that being filled with the things of this world, they have 
no appetite to the things that are heavenly : having dined 
with all the dainties that earth can present, such as honours, 
riches, and the like, they have no relish to the supper of 
the Lamb Christ Jesus, " at whose right hand are pleasures 
for evermore." — Spencer. 

If some silly astrologer or fortune-teller do but hit in one 
thing of twenty, he is presently cried up for a cunning 
man ; but let the physician work six hundred cures, yet, if 
through the impatience of his patient, he fail but in one, 
that one failure doth more turn to his discredit, than his 
many eminent cures did formerly get him praise. Thus 
doth the world deal with men in the matter of censure ; 
if a worldly-minded man have but an outward gift of 
strength or of speech, or of any other natural or acquired 
endowment, he is accounted a precious man, a man of ex- 
cellent parts, though he be at the same time an idolater, a 
profane person. But let the child of God be truly zealous 
for God, honest and holy in life and conversation ; yet if 
there be but one infirmity in him, (as who is free?) or if 
he have through weakness fallen into one sin ; that one in- 
firmity against which he striveth, or that one sin for 
which he is grieved, shall drown all the graces in him, 
be they never so eminent, never so great, and the world is 
ready to give him up for a wicked man, a hypocrite, Sec. — 
Ibid. 

At a time when the church was in virgin purity, and* the 
renunciation of the pomps and vanities of the world, pro- 
fessed in the baptism of water, was maintained by a con- 
tinual baptism in the fire of persecution, the enemy was 
then the world in arms, who is indeed readily discerned, 
provokes resistance, and compels a decision of character. 
But the enemy of later days has been the world in arts, 
and a cloak of profession, which insidiously allures and 
perplexes the resolution by its designing mixture of good 
and bad. So far from soldiers in the field, we are rather 
the people in assembly, among whom the devices, rather 



WORLD. 



525 



than the armies of the enemy, are present. With what 
needfulness in all our ways, and watchfulness in all our 
steps, should we walk ! What clanger of being entangled 
by the wiles of a hollow Christianity, of undue compliances 
with enemies clothed in the garb of Christ's friends, of 
being corrupted from " the simplicity of Christ !" In per- 
secution it requires little foresight to discover the pointed 
sword. But in a smiling world it is the office of deep skill, 
of one who has his senses exercised to discern good and 
evil, to detect the drugged bowl. 

What need of sound wisdom to be called into continual 
use by the believer ! Men do not live at ease or uncon- 
cerned in time of danger as at other times, and " a world 
that lieth in wickedness " is beset with dangers to the 
godly, and calls for the wisdom of the serpent in inter- 
course with it. The Scriptures describe it as full of un- 
cleanness and defilement, disease, and evil communications. 
Let an epidemic disease be raging in the neighbourhood, 
infectious and fatal in its effects, what would a physician 
do in such a case ? he would go among the infected from a 
sense of duty ; his compassion would rouse him to efforts 
to do them good. But he would not domesticate with 
them and make them his companions, nor stay with them 
from choice ; on the contrary, when he had satisfied the 
claims of duty, and their necessities, he would be in haste 
to be gone. A consciousness of danger would be ever 
present with him, and he would act accordingly. Both 
before and after his visit, as well as during his intercourse 
with them, he would use all proper means to preserve 
himself from the contagion which he has reason to appre- 
hend. And how is it the Lord's people whom he " hath 
chosen out of the world " often pursue an opposite line of 
conduct ? Alas ! " the children of this world are in their 
generation wiser than the children of light." As they 
would flee from danger, and avoid infection, " let them 
enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the 
way of evil men ;" but in reference to all who would 
divert them from the path of duty, or impede in any way 
their spiritual progress, the command is plain, " Come out 



526 



WORLD. 



from among them, and be separate, and touch not the un- 
clean thing." 

The ocean presents a beautiful picture of the world, and 
what is passing there. View it at certain seasons, and 
what can appear more tempting and inviting ? But under 
the smiling and deceitful surface, how often are there con- 
cealed dangerous rocks and quicksands, on which the un- 
skilful mariner will strike and be lost ! The sea also, as 
well as the world in general, exhibits the mark of that 
curse under which the whole creation groan eth and tra- 
vaileth. It abounds with creatures pursuing and devouring 
each other ; the small and the great becoming a prey to 
the weak and powerful ; while in both there is a great de- 
stroyer — a leviathan taking his pastime, and seeking the 
perdition of all. View the sea also, when agitated by 
winds, and then how fitly does its commotion represent the 
restlessness and fury of godless men, impelled hither and 
thither by the breath of their wild and ungovernable pas- 
sions to destruction ! But let us bless God that he has not 
left man to chance, or his own skill in crossing the great 
ocean of human life. If the mariner has his compass, the 
Christian has his bible. If the one has his pilot, the other 
also has his guide and Saviour. — Light from the W est. 

The power of worldliness, though it works silently and 
unperceived, yet it is no less certain in its operations. 
Like some more open vices, it may not startle and con- 
found the soul of its victim with a sense of guilt ; yet quiet, 
and equable, like an ever-flowing stream it gradually wears 
his soul into one channel, and drains off his thought* and 
affections from higher ground, carrying all forward with a 
steady current in that single direction ; while his religious 
impressions, like a side-wind agitating for a moment the 
face of the stream, only ripple its surface, and subside, 
without in the least retarding its onward course. 

" Come out from among them," &c. The simile of the 
man saved from drowning is apposite. Such a person would 
strain every nerve to aim the rope, to guide the plank, to 
row the life-boat towards the less favoured comrades ; but 
no one would expect him to cast himself anew amid the 



WORLD, 



527 



devouring waves whence he has been just drawn ashore. 
No : he would use his own rescue as a means of stimulating 
their efforts to escape also ; but for that very purpose he 
would exhibit himself as altogether delivered — not as again 
floundering among them in the waters. 

You may see a field of corn, yet full of fine showy pop- 
pies ; if you turn some children into it, you will see them 
rush to the poppies, and altogether overlook the corn, and 
take no notice of it. Now this is the conduct of the men of 
the world — like the children, they are all eagerly in quest 
of the poppies, the glittering baubles and trifles of this life, 
while they are overlooking the wheat, the solid grains of 
eternity ; — the fruit, which, if gathered into the garner, 
would endure unto eternal life. 

To be always in the tumult of the world, or the society of 
others, is full of danger ; retirement is necessary. We 
know that the commons are usually more barren and fruit- 
less than the enclosures, and the fruit tree that groweth by 
the highway side shall have many a stone thrown at it, and 
many a danger which those that are in your orchard 
escape. 

I This world is like a vast mausoleum, a charnel-house, a 
valley of dry bones : among all its followers and votaries 
there is no breast heaves, no heart that feels, no voice that 
speaks, — all is the darkness and solitude of the grave. But 
Christ came to impart spiritual life. 

It is said of Honorius, a Roman emperor, that when one 
told him that Rome was lost, he was exceedingly grieved, 
and cried out, Alas, alas ! for he supposed it was his hen so 
called, which he exceedingly loved ; but when it was told 
him, it was his imperial city of Home, that was besieged by 
Alaricus, and was taken, and all the citizens rifled, and made 
a prey to the rude enraged soldier, then his spirits were 
revived, that his loss was not so great as he imagined. Can 
it be otherwise thought, but that this disposition of Hono- 
rius was most weak and childish ? Yet the most of men are 
under the same condemnation, as being too much affected 
with the loss of a poor silly hen, with the deprivation of 
things temporal, nothing at all minding the want of those 



528 



WORLD. 



which are spiritual : if they lose a little wealth, the least 
punctilio of honour, a little pleasure, a little vanity, things 
of themselves good for nothing, because of themselves they 
can make nothing good, yet for these things they will vex 
and fret, weep and wail ; but when they see their precious 
soul's deserts for sin, and God's wrath for sin ; when they 
are rifled, and stripped naked of grace, not having the 
breastplate of Christ's righteousness to cover them, then, 
with the Israelites, " they sit down to eat and drink, and 
rise up to play." So foolish are they, and ignorant, even as 
the beast which perisheth." Psalm xlix. 20. — Spencer. 

It was the custom, when an heir was impleaded for an 
idiot, the judge commanded an apple or a counter, with a 
piece of gold, to be set before him, to try which he would 
take ; if he took the apple or the counter, and not the gold, 
then he was cast for a fool, and so held by the judgment 
of the court, as one that was unable to manage his estate, 
because he did not know the value of things, or how to 
make a true election of what is fittest for him in the way 
of subsistency. This is the case of all wicked men, thus 
foolish, and much more ; when bugles and diamonds, count- 
ers and gold, are before them, they leave the diamonds and 
the gold, and please themselves with toys and baubles : nay, 
when heaven and destruction, life and death, are set before 
them, they choose destruction rather than heaven, and death 
rather than life ; they take the mean, transitory, trifling 
things of the world, before the favour of God, the pardon 
of sin, a part in Jesus Christ, and an inheritance amongst 
the saints in light celestial. — Ibid. 

As a cup of pleasant wine offered to a condemned man in 
the way to his execution ; as the feast of him who sat under a 
naked sword, hanging perpendicularly over his head by a 
slender thread ; as Adam's forbidden fruit, seconded by a 
flaming sword ; asBelshazzar's dainties overlooked by a hand- 
writing against the wall : such are all empty delights of 
the world ; in their matter and expectation, earthly : in their 
acquisition painful : in their fruition nauseous and cloying : 
in their duration dying and perishing ; in their operation 
hardening, effeminating, leavening, puffing up, estranging 



YOUTH, 



529 



the heart from God ; in their consequences seconded with 
anxiety, solicitude, fr.ar, sorrow, despair, disappointment; 
in their measure shorter than that a man can stretch him- 
self on, narrower than that a man can wrap himself in ; 
every way defective and disproportionate to the vast and 
spacious capacity of the soul of man, as unable to fill that, 
as the light of a candle to give day to the whole world ; 
nothing but emptiness attends them all, unless they be 
found in Christ Jesus. — Ibid. 

It is observed by the mythologists, that Pleasure went on 
an occasion to bathe herself, and having stripped off her 
clothes, laid them on the water-side ; but Sorrow having hid 
herself in the covert as unseen, steals the clothes away, puts 
them on, and so departs ; hence it comes to pass, that mul- 
titudes in the world are at a great loss, they run and ride, 
court and woo pleasures which they have no sooner ob- 
tained, but they perceive their error, and acknowledge their 
mistake. It is nothing else but Sorrow in Pleasure's 
clothes ; the pleasures of the world are bitter sweets at the 
best ; God only is true happiness, at his right hand are true 
pleasures for evermore. — Ibid. 



Youtj). 

Sin groweth stronger by custom, and more rooted ; it 
gathereth strength by the very act. A brand that hath 
been in the fire is more apt to take fire again. A man in the 
dropsy, the more he drinks, the more his thirst increaseth. 
Every act lesseneth fear, and strengtheneth inclination. 
Jer. xiii. 27. "Wo unto thee, 0 Jerusalem, wilt thou not be 
made clean ? when shall it once be ?" A twig is easily 
bowed ; but when it grows, when long rooted, not so easily. 
The man that was possessed of a devil from his childhood, 
how hardly is he cured ! Mark ix. 29. Justice is provoked 
the longer, and that will be a grief to you first or last. If 
ever we be brought home to God, it will cost us many a 
bitter tear; not only at first conversion, (Jer. xxxi. 18,) " I 

M M 



530 



YOUTH. 



have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself thus: thou 
hast chastised me, and I was chastised," &c, but afterwards : 
David, though he began with God betimes, (Psalm xxv. 7,) 
yet prays, " Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my 
transgressions." And Job xiii. 26, " For thou writest bitter 
things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities 
of my youth." Old bruises may trouble us long after upon 
every change of weather ; and new afflictions revive the 
sense of old sins. They may stick by us. We think tricks 
of youth are not to be stood upon ; you may have a bitter 
sense of them to your dying day. You will every day grow 
more useless to God : the exercise of religion depends much 
on the vigour of the affections. Again, it is very profitable, 
it brings a great deal of honour to God, to begin with him 
betimes. All time is little enough to declare your respects 
to God. And it is honourable for you. Seniority in grace 
is a preferment ; " They were in Christ before me," saith 
Paul. An old disciple is a title of honour. To grow gray 
in Christ's service, and to know him long, it maketh the 
work of grace more easy. The dedication of the first fruits 
sanctified the whole lump. (Lam. iii. 27.) " It is good for a 
man that he bear the yoke in his youth," to be inured to 
strictness betimes. Dispositions only when cultivated in 
youth increase with us, and attain their true growth and 
beauty. 

The ancients painted a young man stark naked, his eyes 
veiled, his right hand bound behind him, and his left hand 
left at liberty, and Time following him close at the heels, 
and ever and anon pulling a thread out of the veil. He 
was so drawn in a naked posture, to show with what little 
secrecy he had used his delights and pleasures ; with his 
right hand bound behind him, to express that he did not do 
anything right ; his left hand free, and at liberty, signifying 
that he doth do all things awkwardly, and untowardly. He 
was portrayed blind, because he doth not see his own follies; 
but Time behind him, opening his eyes by little and little, 
so bringing him to a knowledge of his errors, and that if he 
go on in such a course of life he is no other than as a broken 
ship which leaks and draws in water at a thousand places, 



YOUTH. 



531 



and will not be long ere it sink : as a house, whereinto the 
rain doth fall, and drop in so fast, and at so many places 
that it must speedily fall without recovery. — Spencer. 

The importance of early piety is rarely estimated. Youth 
is the spring of life, and by this will be determined the glory 
of the summer, the abundance of autumn, and the provision 
of winter. It is the morning of life, and if the Sun of 
Righteousness does not dispel the moral mists and fogs 
before noon, the whole day generally remains overspread 
and gloomy. It is the seed-time, and " what a man soweth 
that shall he reap." Everything of importance is affected 
by religion in this period of life. 



Zeal 

There is a story in Pliny, how two goats meeting on a 
bridge, they did not make way against each other, but made 
way one for the other. The one, lying down, suffered the 
other to pass over his back, and so both escaped the danger of 
the ditch. And in the time of the Gothish wars, it may be 
read, that a Roman soldier and a barbarian, casually falling 
into the same pit as they marched along the country, were so 
far from contending with each other, as that they both agreed 
mutually to relieve each other, and so, necessity making them 
friends, they were both drawn out of the pit and delivered. 
It were to be wished that party-spirited Christians would 
give up their contentious zeal, and yield in all matters which 
are not fundamental for the common good, and that church 
of Christ of which they are the several members. Had they 
so much wit as the goat, or else so much good will as the 
Goth, they would not make a tenacious spirit, and a want of 
forbearance a point of devotion. If their zeal were but half 
so good for the gospel, as Mary's was to the law, at the time 
of the purification, they would rather wrong themselves in 
the particular, than wrong the church in general.— Spencer. 

Phaeton, in the poet, takes upon him to draw the chariot 
of the sun, but through his inconsiderate rashness sets the 
world in a combustion. What a horse is without a rider, or 



532 



ZEAL. 



a hot-spurred rider without au eye, a ship in a high 
wind and swelling- sea without a rudder ; such is zeal with- 
out knowledge. Knowledge is the eye of the rider that 
chooseth the best way ; the bridle in the hand to mode- 
rate the pace ; the rudder in the ship whereby it is steered 
safely. St. Bernard hits full on this point. Discretion 
without zeal is slow-paced ; and zeal without discretion is 
strong-headed ; let therefore zeal spur on discretion, and 
discretion rein in zeal. — Ibid. 

Dogs seldom bark at a man that ambles a softly fair pace, 
but if he once sets spurs to his horse and fall galloping, 
(though his errand be of importance, and to the court per- 
haps,) then they bark at, and fly at him ; and thus they do 
at the moon, not so much because she shines, for that they 
often see, but because, by reason of the clouds hurried 
under by the winds, she seems to run faster than ordinary. 
And thus if any man do but pluck up his spirits in God's 
service, and run the ways of his commandments, it is Jehu's 
furious march presently, and he shall meet with many a 
scoff by the way, that runneth with more speed than ordi- 
nary. — Ibid. 

False zeal is uncertain, and mortal : it must be fanned by 
the gale of adventitious circumstances ; it is merely occa- 
sional ; it intermits; it is a meteor which streams through the 
sky with momentary beauty ; now it sparkles, now it expires. 
~Not so pure and undefiled zeal : this is permanent ; kindled 
by the breath of the Almighty, it shines like the glory of the 
day, and is destined to shine when that glory is turned into 
gloom ;— destined to soar above pyramids, and hills, and 
clouds, and stars ; — destined to survive the catastrophe of 
the earth, and the visible heavens, and then to mingle with 
the flames of devotion, which blaze eternally around the 
throne of God. 

A Christian's zeal is not partial, but universal ; it "affects 
us always," not as a feverish, but a vital heat ; not as a 
meteor, but as the sun. 

LONDON : 

IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, 
SAVOY STREET, STRAND. 



0 041 210 004 9 



